


Rescue Me

by Moonchild707



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Big Brothers, Family, Family Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 17:42:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21324121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonchild707/pseuds/Moonchild707
Summary: Isabella Swan lives with her abusive father, Charlie, after the death of her mother. When her two older brothers come home from school and discover their sister's secrets, Bella's circumstances undergo a dramatic and life-altering change. Rewritten and edited version of the original. Based on true events. AH, OOC, dark themes.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

"Isabella!"

I felt my body tense as I ran down the stairs, flying into the kitchen where I thought the call had come from. The voice sounded angry, and I didn't want him to lose his temper with me again. I moved quickly from my bedroom, torn between rushing down in a feeble attempt to assuage him and hesitating, which would only prolong the inevitable. My feet found the staircase without my consent, and I forced myself to pay careful attention to where I put them, knowing that with my poor balance and coordination, inattention would only lead to a rough tumble the rest of the way down. When I made it to the kitchen, I took a deep breath and steeled myself, trying my best to prepare.

"Right here," I said quietly, peeking in through the doorway. My father, Charlie, was seated at the table, an open beer in front of him as he swayed dangerously. His face and neck were red and sweaty, his beady eyes squinting and watery as he took me in, snarling.

He was drunk.

"Where the hell were you? You've got shit to do," he spat venomously, glancing back at the dishes in the sink. I felt my cheeks heat up when I saw where he was looking, and I moved to take care of the problem. I had allowed myself to get lost in a novel upstairs, hoping he'd pass out before he noticed my unfinished chores.

"Nowhere," I said meekly, in answer to his query, and I knew my mistake as soon as the word was out of my mouth. Charlie grunted and rose from his seat, depositing the bottle on the table with a loud _slam!_ that made me jump. I forced myself to remain still and quiet as he pushed his way over to me, knocking one of the dining chairs aside and squeezing my chin in a rough grip. I closed my eyes when he forced my face up, his sour breath washing over my face as he leaned in close.

"Don't lie to me, _bitch_," he rumbled, making me flinch when he spat the curse. "What were you doing?" He spoke to me as if I was an invalid—slow and deliberate, and I knew there would be no hope for a peaceful resolution now.

"Reading," I admitted slowly, biting my lip in an effort to keep from crying out when his hand tightened on my face. He jerked it sharply towards him, making my teeth clack together when he shook me, forcing my eyes open.

"Reading," he repeated mockingly, processing the information slowly. He barked out a laugh and shoved me away from him, and I wrapped my arms around myself, moving against the wall. I nodded in confirmation, trying my best to keep calm and at ease. Charlie didn't like it when I lashed out at him.

It was best to let him get it out of his system, then he'd leave me alone.

I saw his hand before I felt it, wrapping tightly around my long, dark hair. I couldn't help but cry out as he pulled me near him again, my feet stumbling on the linoleum as I fought to keep my balance. He had no words for me as he dragged me to the living room, giving me a sharp slap for my dishonesty. My hands came up to shield myself from the onslaught of his fists and I tried my best to block him out as he raged, and eventually, he let me go.

He kicked the chair on his way out of the room, cursing loudly as he tossed himself back down at the kitchen table, returning to his drink. I sat on the floor for a moment longer, trying to catch my bearings and rubbing my scalp where I was sure he'd torn out some hair.

When I saw the blood on the floor, I immediately scrambled back, taking a deep, steady breath.

'_Not mom, not mom, not mom…'_ The mantra repeated over and over in my head as I clenched my eyes tight shut, willing myself to think of something—_anything_—else.

That was not _her_ blood.

I distracted myself from the floor by turning away to find the source of the blood on my own body, knowing it was either from my face or his hand.

The warm trickle from my nose alerted me to its source.

In the bathroom, I found Kleenex and a clean washcloth, and made a thorough job of ridding my face of blood. My nose looked alright—not broken at least—though I knew there would be a nasty mark on my cheek come tomorrow morning.

"Come start dinner!" I heard Charlie holler, his voice once again sounding nothing more than irritated. Despite the fact that I'd lived with Charlie my whole life, the abruptness of his changing temper always threw me.

You never knew when he'd snap.

I peeked into the kitchen again before I entered fully, and was relieved to find Charlie engrossed in the weekend paper.

"What are we having?" I asked quietly, opening the freezer to stare at the minimal stock held there. Charlie just grunted with a shrug and I opened the fridge, seeing the steaks I'd defrosted last night.

"Steak?"

"Sure."

It was always awkward, working in the kitchen when Charlie was there. He liked to watch me cook, or so he said, and I always wondered what _exactly_ he was watching.

I was peeling potatoes when the loud jangle of the telephone broke my concentration, startling me and making my father curse. I stood still, watching Charlie from the corner of my eye to see if he'd want to pick it up.

"Get that," he spat angrily, gesticulating towards the phone on the wall. I saw the familiar flash of anger in his eyes and rushed to do as I was told, having no desire to deal with his fists again today.

"Hello?" The noise on the phone was loud, and I cringed and held it an inch or so from my ear, confusion rushing through me.

"Bells?" said a loud, boisterous voice over the other end, and I felt my face break into a wide grin.

"Hi Em," I said, happy despite myself. It had been over three years since my brother had moved to Seattle for school, and due to his assignments and various other commitments, I hadn't seen him in over six months. It was hard for Emmett to be home ever since mom died.

"Beelllaaa!" he shouted noisily, drawing my name out. The sound earned another round of laughter and raucousness from his end, and even Charlie heard it, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

He always reminded me of before when he did that.

There was another click on the line and I heard someone else chime in, this voice much softer and gentler than Emmett's.

"Did they pick up?

"Jasper!" I said, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

"Hey honey," he said, and I could envision the way he was grinning.

Jasper always smiled.

"What's up, guys?" I asked, trying my best to keep the cheer in my voice. I always liked hearing from my brothers, but with that came an overwhelming desire to weep.

Dad was never cruel when the boys were around.

"We have a surprise…" said Emmett in a sing-song voice. "Take a guess."

"I don't know," I said, glancing over at dad. He was staring intently at me, looking torn between letting me talk and snatching the phone for himself.

Dad loved the boys, of that much I was certain.

"Guess!" he insisted, and I heard him drop the phone.

"Jesus, Emmett," said Jasper, laughing. "Talk much?"

"Shut up, dick." Emmett's retort made Jasper laugh, though this time, he sounded taunting.

I just sighed.

"What's the surprise?" I asked.

"Well…" began Jasper in a calm, excited voice. "We're—"

"Coming to _visit!"_ shouted Emmett, loud enough that I grunted and held the phone away from my ear. The shout was loud enough that even Charlie, seated at the table, was able to overhear.

"Fuck!" I heard him growl, throwing his beer bottle into the sink with the dishes, storming away into the living room. Before the boys came home, he would have to get rid of his beer, clean, buy new groceries and pick me up some new makeup.

"What was _that?"_ asked Jasper, sounding concerned.

"Dad," I said quickly, fabricating. "Someone must be losing."

It was well known that dad was a baseball addict, and that when the Mariners lost, his temper often got the best of him.

"Well, well, _potty mouth,"_ teased Emmett, chuckling.

"You had to get it from somewhere," snarked Jasper, earning him a laughing _"fuck you"._

"Want to talk to him?" I asked carefully, eying dad as he slammed the bathroom drawers open, looking for concealer.

"Yeah, okay," said Emmett jovially, and I silently held the phone out for Charlie as he neared.

"Hey," he grunted, his voice raspy. I heard Emmett over the other end, though he didn't shout at dad like he had at me, so I couldn't make out any words.

"Head cold," was all Charlie said.

_More like drunk._

"When? Tomorrow?" he asked, and I wished I could hear what was going on. I returned to peeling potatoes, trying my best to look like I wasn't eavesdropping, though I'm not sure Charlie was fooled.

"No, that's not a problem." Pause. "You'll have to ask her." He thrust the phone back at me with a pointed look, shaking it at me when I took too long wiping my hands.

"Hello?"

"Bell, we're coming down tomorrow with some friends," said Jasper easily. _"Female_ friends."

I nodded before remembering they couldn't see.

"Who?" I asked, clearing my throat.

"Alice and Rose," said Emmett easily. When I'd Skyped with the boys on webcam the two sometimes made brief appearances, but I had yet to meet them in the flesh. I knew my brothers were serious about them, especially Emmett, who wasn't known for his steady relationships.

"Okay."

I wasn't completely sure how I felt about meeting newcomers, but for my brothers' sake, I would make sure to be welcoming and kind.

Not that I was ever _unkind._

"Bell?"

"Yeah Em?" I asked, knowing there was a food request coming up.

Emmett ate like a beast.

"Will you make stroganoff? Rosie wants to try it and I've already told her how good it is, and I _know_ I'm your favourite brother…"

"Yes, okay, and it's debatable," I fired off, answering each of his comments in turn.

"Debatable," he chirped, sounding cheered. "Hear that, Jazz? It's _debatable. _I have a real _shot!"_

"Shut up."

Emmett just laughed.

"Love you, Bell," he said in his normal, teasing voice. Affirmations of love came very easily to Emmett. He never hesitated to tell anyone he could about who and what he "loved". Much to my discontent, I felt my eyes brighten with tears, the sudden urge to hug him and never let go seizing me. Emmett was a rock, and I loved him for it.

Even if he didn't know.

"Love you too," I said, and I knew he would know I was teary.

"Are you _crying?"_ he demanded, indignant. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, forcing the tears away. "I'm not crying."

"Sounded like you were," he accused gently, and though he said nothing, I knew Jasper was listening too.

"I'm not," I assured him, laughing. "Pinky swear."

"If you're sure," said Jasper finally, sounding every bit as concerned as Emmett.

"Do I have kick some ass when I get there?" demanded Emmett. "Someone picking on you?"

"No," I said, sighing and wiping my face angrily. "Swear it."

"Get in a fight with dad?" he asked. "That always makes you cry."

"No, no fights with dad," I said softly, keeping my voice low so dad wouldn't hear.

He was paranoid about me blabbing, especially to my overprotective bear of a brother.

"Are you—"

"I'm _not_ crying," I insisted again. "Cross my heart, pinkie promise."

Jasper just laughed as Emmett fell silent, and dad mimed hanging up from the bathroom doorway.

"I've got to go," I said reluctantly, sighing and forcing myself not to tear up again.

Emmett was bound to find out.

"Aw no!" he cried, disheartened. "Well, I'll see you later then. Love you."

"Bye." Emmett's phone clicked out of the conversation, leaving me alone on the line with Jasper.

"Take care, honey," he said gently. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye Jazz."

When his phone clicked too, I frowned and hung the receiver back up on the wall, untangling the curly cord as I composed myself.

I wanted to scream.

"What did you say to them?"

"What?" I asked, confused as dad lounged against the doorframe, frowning at me.

"You heard me."

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. I refused to meet his eye, focusing instead on the missing piece of baseboard along the kitchen floor.

"Jasper's asking questions," Charlie said, and shivers ran up my spine at the thought. "He thought you sounded _'sad'_." He mocked the word in a petulant, childish voice.

"I didn't say anything." I chanced a glance at his face, and was thrown off by his quiet nodding as he examined me closely.

"Make up a good excuse for that mark," he said quietly, reaching out to tap my sore cheek with the tips of his fingers. The gesture was gentler than what I was used to and it took all my self control not to flinch, or better yet, _run_.

Gentle Charlie was never a good sign.

"Finish dinner," he said, his voice matching the look on his face. He looked like the old Charlie used to look—like the kind, gentle police chief father the townspeople still thought he was. It threw me off kilter as I quickly finished boiling and mashing the potatoes, throwing together a quick salad while the steaks rested.

He even thanked me when I served him, and had no comments about the meal I'd set out.

When we finished and I washed the dishes, Charlie was still watching me.

"We're not going to be alone again for a while," he began quietly, blocking my way to the staircase.

I wanted to go to bed, and I felt my chest constrict at his words.

"Uh huh," I agreed, nodding as I rested against the counter.

"It'll be awhile before…"

_Not tonight._

"Can I go to bed?"

"Sure," he said, though he made no move to unblock the steps. "Bed."

"Dad please," I said, my voice breaking as I fought back tears.

_Not tonight._

"Go on up to bed, Bella," he said gently. "I'll see you up there in a few minutes."

"I'd really rather sleep," I tried hesitantly, wondering if he'd slap me for my insolence. "I don't really want to…"

"Go on up," he said, in the same, gentle voice. "I'll be up shortly."

"Maybe I'll just watch a movie," I tried, sliding towards the living room. "I'm not really that tired…"

"Go to bed, Bella," he said firmly. "It's bedtime. Daddy says so."

The tears did fall now, and I wished I could be anywhere but here.

"Go on."

I sniffed as he took my hand and forced me to the steps, his strength more than my own. I hesitated on the steps and he reached out and nudged my back, and I knew he'd have no problem picking me up and carrying me upstairs if I didn't do it myself.

"_He's your _father,_ not your lover…" _came the unkind voice in my mind. _"Little slut wants to make her daddy happy…"_

I don't.

_Do so._

"Don't," I said out loud once I reached the entrance to my door, glancing up and down the hall to find someplace else to go.

There was nowhere I could hide that he wouldn't find me, and when I heard him creaking his way up the steps, I panicked.

In my bedroom, the only place to go was the closet, and I knew he'd only be angrier if he found me there. I rummaged around the room, my brain scrambling to think of somewhere—_anywhere_—else I could go to avoid what I knew was coming. I found a pair of old pyjamas in the drawers by the window and quickly stripped, throwing them on.

Ugly pyjamas had never deterred him before, I knew, though I supposed there was always a _chance..._

I heard him entering his own bedroom, no doubt to find something to change into for himself, and I quickly slipped into my bed, wrapping my sheets and comforter tightly around me. I laid down on my pillows and squeezed my eyes shut.

_I'm sleeping._

"Baby?" came the voice of Gentle Charlie. I ignored him, praying with all my might to whatever God might be listening for him to leave me be.

"_Just for tonight," _I thought. _"I'll tell my brothers tomorrow. I'll tell them how he hits and grabs and touches…"_

I knew I was lying, and when Charlie opened the door and chuckled, I knew it was God's turn to punish my deceit.

_I'm sorry._

No one answered.

"All bundled up for bed," Charlie mocked. "Come on, Bella, I know you're awake." The edge of my bed sunk down low and I grabbed my blankets tighter, willing him away.

His lips pressed to my exposed cheek and his hands stroked down my blanket-covered body, and I flinched when he tore them back, the cool air _whooshing_ around me.

His hands went to my hands then, unclenching them as he placed them on his shoulders and he tossed himself over, lying next to me.

"Be a good girl, Bella," he said gently. "Can you be a good girl for me?"

I clamped my eyes shut as I felt him reaching down for my shirt, pulling it up over my head.

"Good girl."

Like he always did, he started with my shirt before he moved to my pants and underclothes, loving me in a way I knew he shouldn't.

_Be a good girl, Bella._

_Be a good girl…_

_Good girl…_

_Good…_

I went limp under him and let him do whatever pleased him. I did my best to ignore his hands on me, all the while rerunning the mantra of _"good girl" _in my head. I was a good girl. I was good…

I was a good girl…

He moved over me. Always moving, always moving...

"Oh _that's _my good girl!"

When he kissed me, pulled away and left, I wrapped myself tightly in my blankets again, not even bothering to replace my ugly pyjamas. I laid naked under my bedclothes, once again clenching my hands in fists and squeezing my eyes shut, willing myself to sleep.

Maybe, if I was lucky, I wouldn't wake up.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up the next morning confused and cold, the meager predawn light struggling through the blinds on the window. Sometime during the night I'd kicked off my sheets, leaving me naked and exposed to the chilly morning air. I felt the heat rising up my neck at the idea of Charlie "checking" on me during the night and finding me in such a state. Charlie sometimes liked to check to see if I was sleeping.

Sometimes, he tried again.

I struggled in my bed, moving through the dark of the room to find the switch. The harsh fluorescent light in my bedroom stuttered to live with a dull buzzing, momentarily blinding me as I blinked furiously. Once my eyes had adjusted, I snatched up last night's ugly pajamas and redressed, wrapping my arms around myself for warmth.

It would be a chilly morning.

In the bathroom I caught sight of my marred face. There was a large, angry bruise spreading from my cheek down to my jaw—a dusky shadow that commemorated Charlie's victory over me. I watched in the mirror as my hand rose up and pressed gentle fingers to the mark, sending a flaring pain up the side of my face. I very carefully opened and closed my mouth to test the motion, and was pleased to find that aside from the dark mark, there was minimal swelling.

_It should be easy enough to conceal._

I quickly threw my hair back in a messy bun and made my way downstairs, gripping the banister in the darkness of the staircase. As the lower level of the house became visible, I noticed that while the living room was dark and still, I could hear shuffling and movement from the dimly lit kitchen. Charlie, seated in his spot, appeared to have procured his own breakfast, and was eating away steadily at the bowl of Cheerios in front of him.

"Morning," he grunted, glancing up as I made my way inside. I grabbed myself a glass from the dish rack and filled it with water, offering him a quiet greeting in response.

"You're up early." His voice broke the silence of the room and sounded louder than usual.

"Yeah."

"Sleep well?"

I shrugged noncommittally, turning away when his head snapped around to watch me. He waited a moment for elaboration, and when none came, he spoke sharply.

"I asked you a question, Bella."

"I slept fine," I said, placing my glass in the sink.

"There," said Charlie, appeased. "Was that so hard?"

"No."

"Good."

I stayed still at the counter, unsure of where he wanted me. Normally, when I woke, Charlie would have me prepare breakfast for the two of us, usually something hot. On the odd days when Charlie made his own food, he was the one to wake me, to ensure I made it to school.

"Your brothers should be here for dinner," said Charlie, dropping his spoon into the milk left in his bowl. "Before they get here, this house needs to be cleaned, we need food, and you need to cover that mark."

"Right," I said, nodding.

"I got you this," he continued, producing a small bag from the local 24-hour drugstore from the chair next to him and tossing it on the table. The glass bottle inside knocked loudly against the table, and when I didn't move to take it, Charlie nudged it roughly towards me.

"Go fix it," he urged, impatient. "Get ready, eat, and then get going. I've got some paperwork to do at the station. I'll be back before the boys get here." His words struck me dumb, and I stared stupidly at the table, my stomach lurching excitedly at the thought.

A day at home without Charlie?

Those were few and far between.

"Make sure shit gets done," he warned lowly, pointing a finger at me as he stood and stretched. "I don't want to come home to a pigsty." I nodded quickly, refusing to meet his gaze as I moved to the table and grabbed up the concealer, reaching into the bag to take it out. Charlie knew my brand and colour by heart, having been to the store for it countless times.

Charlie moved to the door and grabbed his coat and keys, speaking again as he prepared to leave.

"There's money in the jar and the truck keys are on my bedside table. Get whatever they like, and don't forget the stuff for whatever the hell Em wants."

"Okay."

"You might need to wash some sheets too," he added as he opened the door. "I don't know what's left in the closet. Make sure it gets done."

When he slammed the door, making the flimsy key rack rattle with the force, it was all I could do not to whoop with exultation. The feeling of dread that had overtaken me before sleep last night was lifted at the thought of Charlie leaving, and having the peace and quiet of the house to myself for the day was more than I could have ever asked for.

As soon as the door snapped shut and I regained some sense, I took my cover up to the bathroom. The track lighting above the sink dazzled me when I adjusted it to shine on my face, the intense incandescence sending blooms of red and blue swimming across my vision. I focused on my image in the mirror for a moment until they disappeared, taking a better look at the side of my face. The bruise stood out in stark contrast to my naturally pale complexion, and a sudden burst of anxiety bloomed in my belly as I wondered whether or not the makeup would work.

What would Charlie say if it didn't?

'_He'll be mad, he'll be mad, he'll be mad, he'll be mad-'_

"Shut up," I said out loud, as if my own inner thoughts belonged to the other Bella in the looking glass.

Taking a small makeup sponge from the drawer, I carefully poured a generous amount from the bottle, using my thumb to rub it in. When I brought the sponge to my face I had to force myself not to wince or cry out, as the pressure on the bruise sent jolts of pain straight through to my teeth. I powered through as quickly as I could, trying to make a seamless transition from makeup to skin.

Too little product, and the bruise would show. Too much, and it would be obvious.

The makeup became more and more difficult to distribute, and once it started to dry, I was forced to give it up.

Instead of a dark bruise, there was an orange splotch with a dusky center, my pale skin made even more grotesque by the alteration.

I rubbed it off and tried again.

Three tries and half an hour later, I managed to make myself somewhat presentable. The mark was not overtly visible, but I knew both of my brothers would notice the makeup. After years of being somewhat of an anti-cosmetic advocate, the change wouldn't go unnoticed.

The makeup, however, was explainable.

"Good," I said, speaking out loud again. I smiled when no voice responded to me, either angry or joyful. The serene quiet was response enough for me.

With my face taken care of, I made quick work of the rest of my morning routine. Once I was properly dressed, primped and combed, I went into Charlie's room to grab the truck keys, noting that his room would require a thorough going over before our company arrived. Emmett and Jasper had seen dad's mess enough before, but I was sure Charlie would embarrassed if their girlfriends were privy to it.

ooOoo

By the time 5 o'clock rolled around, I had the groceries put away, beds made, house cleaned and dinner well on its way. It was while I was chopping vegetables for a salad that Charlie walked in the door, grunting and cursing as he hefted a heavy bag of paperwork onto the dining table.

The fledgling confidence that had hatched earlier in the day died as soon as I saw his scowl, and I inadvertently hunched my shoulders as I worked. My stomach roiled with anxiety and I took a deep breath.

"Hello," I said bravely, keeping my voice steady and sure. "How was work?"

Charlie just grunted at me and kicked off his boots, stalking deeper into the house to inspect it. I heard no complaints as he searched through the living room and then the bathroom, which had required a bit of elbow grease.

"Dinner almost done?" he asked gruffly.

"In a bit," I said, my voice trembling.

"They'll be here soon," he warned me. "Jasper called me from the road."

"Okay."

"Look at me," he said, taking a step closer to the counter. I abandoned my knife and pepper to turn and face him, tilting my face up to the light.

He sighed harshly and maneuvered my face so he could examine his handiwork, nodding carefully in approval.

"Good enough," he said. "If they ask, make something up."

I could only nod.

_I fell. I walked into a wall. I got hit by a ball in gym…_

_Anything but the truth._

"Oh, and Bella?" I snapped my face up to meet his gaze. He wasn't looking at my face, however, and when I followed his gaze, I saw the marks on my arms.

"Go find a sweater."

I scrambled away from the cutting board and knife, cursing my lack of self awareness. What would I have done if they'd arrived early, and seen my marks? What would _Charlie_ have done?

I shuddered at the thought, and immediately threw open my closet, snatching an oversized UDub sweater Emmett had gotten me for Christmas last year. It was warm and cozy, and had a pocket in front that was big enough for a paperback.

Going back downstairs made me nervous again, as I could hear Charlie pacing. Charlie was always on edge when people came over, and when Charlie was nervous, he was snappy and jittery.

Sometimes I wondered why he did the things he did. Why he hit and touched. I wondered whether or not he really knew what he was doing, or if maybe, the real Charlie would come back…

'_He's a cop,'_ reasoned the little voice. '_He must know what he's doing…'_

'_But he's a drunk,' _I thought. _'If he's drunk, how can he know what he's doing?'_

'_He wasn't _always_ a drunk,'_ the voice reminded me. _'When mom was around, he never drank. He came to your dance recitals. He let you play with the lights in the cruiser. He took you to the Seattle Zoo. He brought you fishing with Billy…"_

My inner dialogue came to an abrupt end as I heard the slamming of a car door, and the boisterous voice that could only belong to one person. More sounds followed, laughter and banter audible even as far away from the front door as I was, and I froze in place. I heard Charlie scraping a chair on the floor before the front door opened, the footsteps and laughter growing louder.

"We're here!" cried Emmett's deep, carrying voice. "Hey Dad! Where's Bell?"

"Hey son," said dad, sounding every bit as normal as he pretended to be. I stood on the staircase, my knees feeling like jelly as all my anxieties rushed back all at once.

They'd notice my makeup. They'd see my bruise. They'd see my arms. They'd know…

"Bell!"

I heard my brother's laughter before I saw him, standing with his arms crossed and a wide grin on his face at the foot of the stairs. The moment I laid eyes on him I found the strength to ignore Charlie's warning glance, my face breaking into a smile despite myself. Emmett reached towards me, taking a step closer.

I flew down the staircase in a whirlwind, nearly missed the final step. I avoided catastrophe and caught myself on the banister, letting Emmett help me.

"Jesus, klutz," he said, chortling as he took my arm, steadying me. His hand squeezed lightly as he drew me in, closing over one of Charlie's bruises. But in that moment, as his arms enfolded me, I knew I'd endure the sting a thousand times over. I tossed my arms around his neck and buried my face in the familiar t-shirt, taking in a deep breath.

"Missed you too," he laughed, patting me on the back. "Loving the sweater?"

"Mhm," I nodded, doing my best not to rub my makeup on his shirt.

"I knew you would," he said, grinning. "Best gift ever, right?"

"Mhm."

It was then that he took his arms away, gently urging me back to take a look at me. His eyes zeroed in on my cheek almost at once, and I saw his jaw twitch before he reached out to touch it. I frowned and released him, taking a step back and wrapping my arms around myself instead.

"What's this?" he asked carefully, turning my head to face the light from the window. I saw Charlie's face pale as he pursed his lips, offering me a quiet, sinister shake of the head.

"Nothing," I said quickly, moving away from his outstretched fingers. "Got hit in gym."

"It looks nasty, Bell," he said, grimacing. "Did you get it looked at?"

"It's fine," I evaded. "No big deal."

"Did you at least ice it? 'Cause you know Jazz will throw a fit."

"Yeah," I said, forcing a smile. "I know."

Jasper was in a pre-med program at the university, and was dead set on one day becoming a doctor. He would—

"Hey Bella," came the honey-sweet voice of my other brother as he entered the house, carrying two bags with him. He deposited them by the door and walked over to me, stealing me away from Emmett.

"Check out her face." Emmett's words made my head snap over to him, scowling.

"It's _nothing,"_ I insisted, turning to glance at Charlie. His face was serious and somber as he took a step closer, clapping Emmett on the shoulder.

"School nurse says it's fine," he dismissed. "She bruises like a peach. Says it doesn't even hurt anymore."

I nodded quickly as Jasper snatched my chin, and I forced myself to hold still.

His hands were gentler than Charlie's and much softer, but the way they encased my face made my mind go right back to last night.

I focused on his face instead, watching the liquid brown of his eyes as he examined me.

"Looks fine," he said, pressing a gentle kiss to the injury before he backed away. "Nothing to worry about."

"See?" said Charlie, looking at Emmett. "Nothing serious."

Emmett just grunted.

"Come and meet the girls," said Jasper slowly, eying Emmett with a peculiar, serious look. "They're just outside."

"Was it that Newton kid?" demanded Emmett quietly, taking my shoulders as he steered me to the door. "Because I'll kick his ass for you."

"No," I giggled, glancing up. "It was an _accident."_ Emmett looked like he wanted to argue, but something outside distracted him. Releasing my shoulders, he took a step forward, reaching towards his vehicle.

"Rosie!"

His voice garnered the attention of one of the girls in the back of my brother's Jeep. She smiled through the window and reached for the handle, opening the door and lithely hopping down. She was tall, I noted, and very pretty, with long blonde hair that cascaded down her back and startlingly blue, piercing eyes.

"This is my dad, Charlie," said Emmett, pointing at dad. Dad nodded politely and observed from the porch, but I was not granted that same courtesy.

"And this is Bella," he said, urging me off the porch and into the yard to be closer to her. The girl reached out and took my hand, smiling kindly at me.

"This is Rosalie," he said, for both my benefit and dad's.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," said Rosalie. Even her voice was pretty, and I felt my meager confidence shatter on the spot.

"Hi."

"Come on inside," said dad, sounding pleased. "Sit down and have a drink."

"Thanks," said Rosalie, moving past me with another smile to enter the house. The other door of the Jeep popped open then and the figure that emerged appeared to be the polar opposite of Rosalie.

"I'm Alice!" said the girl, chipper and excitable. "Jasper's told me_ so _much about you!"

"Oh?" I said, leaning back on Emmett.

"We'll be great friends, I'm sure," she said. Emmett just laughed when she took my hand from him and pulled me in for an enthusiastic hug, looking me over once she was done.

"You're just as pretty as he said you were," she beamed, pressing her lips to my uninjured cheek. I felt my face flame twenty different shades of red at both her actions and words, and I turned to look accusingly at Jasper.

As always, Jasper looked unabashed at his complimentary description of me; he was always one to try and make me out to be more than I was. Although I was plain and ordinary, Jasper was always ready to call me beautiful and one-of-a-kind.

I supposed it was one of his quirks.

"Come on inside," I said, clearing my throat as Alice walked alongside me. "I've got dinner almost ready."

"Good," said Emmett, cutting in between us. "I'm starved."

"You're _always_ starved,"I accused. "Is there ever a time when you're _not_ eating?"

"Yes," he replied in mock affront. _"Right now._ And I'm wasting away."

Rosalie chuckled.

"I'm sure it won't be long," said Charlie. "Bella?"

"No, not long."

I went to the stove to stir the pasta as my brothers and their lady friends sat down at the table. I heard Charlie rise before I felt him behind me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He squeezed them a little too hard and my breath hitched, wondering what he might do.

"I asked you to _fix_ that mark, not fuck it up more," he whispered quietly, making my knees wobble. "I ask so little of you, Bella, and you can't even do that."

"I tried," I said quietly, moving away from him to toss the salad. "I tried to—"

"I don't care what you _tried to do_," he hissed, pressing a deceptive kiss to my temple. "Fix this, or I swear to god…"

"How?" I whispered back, panicky. I felt his hand squeeze mine before he stepped back to the table.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked loudly, for the benefit of the newcomers. "Don't need any help?"

"Here, Bella," said Jasper quickly, jumping from his seat. Flustered, I looked back to see Charlie turning away from us to laugh at a crude joke of Emmett's, obviously not acknowledging his quiet threat.

_He's mad, he's mad, he's mad—_

"Here," said Jasper, suddenly right next to me. I jumped in surprise, nearly slicing my hand on the paring knife I was holding, but Jasper's quick intervention prevented serious injury.

"Careful," he warned gently, taking the knife from me. He laughed lightly, nudging me playfully with his shoulder. "Didn't mean to scare you."

I laughed—a high, thready laugh that betrayed my anxiety. The smile melted from his face before he caught himself, turning away to tend to the pot on the stove.

"It's fine," I said, taking a step away. Jasper took the pasta from the stove and poured in the colander for me, leaving me to stir the sauce. His voice was loud enough for me to hear, but quiet enough for everyone else to dismiss.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah."

"Go and sit down," he said gently. "I'll get this." I had no desire to sit next to my father for longer than necessary, so I shook my head and gently reached for the colander.

"Go sit," he insisted, refusing to let them go. I sighed and turned away, focusing on the salad instead, bringing it to the table along with various dressings. When I had placed them just right, I had no choice but to sink into the chair that was uncomfortably close to my father. Our table was made for four, not six, and it was a tight fit.

"Looks great, sweetheart," said Charlie, piling on the charm. "Dig in, everyone."

My plate sat before me, gleaming and white as everyone spooned food onto their plates. As usual, Emmett hijacked the serving spoon first, handing it directly to Rosalie once he was done.

With an ungodly amount of food on his plate, he didn't say a word before he took a big bite, his eyes rolling as he groaned.

"Great, Bell. Really good…"

I gave him a shaky smile.

"Eat, Bella," said Charlie quietly from my right hand side, plopping some salad on my plate for me. He handed me my preferred dressing, but at the very thought of eating, my stomach clenched and I turned away.

"No thanks, dad," I said, in the most convincing charade of tenderness I could manage.

"Honey, you need to eat," he said. "Here, have some pasta."

He spooned stroganoff onto my plate next, and I felt my stomach roil, forcing me to lean away from the table.

Everyone at the table was watching me, concerned eyes flickering between my father and I. Rosalie and Alice glanced only briefly, looking down at their plates in polite awkwardness, but my brothers stared.

Emmett didn't take another bite.

"I'm sorry," I said, speaking to both Charlie and the rest. Charlie watched with anger in his eyes as I pushed away from the table and rushed to the washroom, my rebellious stomach lurching just in time for me to make it to the toilet.

"I'll go check on her," sighed Charlie loudly. "She's been a little off ever since your mother…"

At the mention of mom, my mind went back to the blood and the screaming, and I dry heaved.

The clinking of dishes slowly started back up again but much to my dismay, I heard the distinctive, loud, thumping footfalls of my father approaching my bathroom refuge.

"Open this door," I heard him rumble. _"Now." _My hand reached over and flicked the lock, and the door immediately swung open, letting Charlie slide inside.

"Enough of this bullshit," he spat, gripping my arm to haul me to my feet. "Get out there and do as you're told."

"I'm sorry," I whimpered, my voice laced with panic. As I stared at his angry, snarling face, the walls began to waver around me, my chest began to tighten and my breathing grew quicker and quicker…

"Oh for fuck's sake," he barked, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Either get out there and eat or go up to your room and play sick. Don't go freaking out on me again…"

"I'm sorry," I gasped again, trying my best to get a hold of myself.

_Can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe…_

"Piss me off again tonight, Bella, and I swear to god you'll get it," he threatened. "They're only here for a few days. You're here for a long while yet."

"I'm sorry," I repeated—they were the only words that would form.

"Handle it," he snapped, sidestepping the unflushed toilet with a grimace and slamming the bathroom door behind him. His loud voice carried back to me as I gripped the sides of the porcelain bowl, willing myself to calm down.

A panic attack is what Jasper would call it. He'd seen me at mom's memorial, in the very same situation in the back room of the church's basement. The very sight of me, pitiful and weak, had sent him rushing over to hold me, gently coaxing me to take a deep breath in and slowly let it out. I tried the same thing this time, but without the comfort of another body, it wasn't as effective.

"No, Jasper, she's fine—" Dad's voice came from near the bathroom door, and I startled again, reaching up to flush the vomit away.

"I know, dad," came my brother's gentle voice. "I just want to talk to her."

"Jazz…"

"It's fine, dad," said Jasper again, his knuckles rapping lightly on the bathroom door. "Bell? Open up, please."

"I'm fine," I called out, my voice warbling and cracking. "I'll be out in a minute…"

The door opened anyways and I felt his warm arms pulling me away from the toilet for a fierce embrace, his head resting on my hair.

"Please don't be sad, sweetheart," he said softly. "It'll be alright."

"Yeah." I took a shallow, shuddering breath and Jasper's grip tightened

"Deep breaths," he reminded me softly, running a hand down my back. "Take it easy, honey."

"Sorry," I repeated, trying to pull back.

"Nothing to be sorry for," he said easily. "Just relax."

Another few minutes and I felt the bands around my chest easing away, and my nausea turned to simple butterflies.

"There now," he soothed. "Better?"

"Yeah," I said awkwardly, wishing for once in my life I could just get it right.

'_Such a fuck up…'_ came the mean little voice. _'Charlie's gonna kick your ass…'_

_Shut up._

"You want to come out and eat something?" asked Jasper quietly, helping me to my feet.

"No thanks." He opened his mouth to protest but I cut him off with a careful promise. "I'll eat later. I'm just not feeling it right now."

"Alright," he agreed, ushering me out of the bathroom with a gentle, guiding hand. "Come and sit down. We haven't seen you in forever."

In the living room, Charlie was engaging both Alice and Rosalie in quiet conversation, leaving Emmett alone on the sofa, staring in the direction of Jasper and I. He caught my gaze when I came in and frowned, glancing up meaningfully to our brother.

I had no idea what their unspoken language was conveying this time, but I was sure it had to do with me. My suspicions were confirmed when Emmett wiggled his finger to me, urging me to come closer.

"You okay?" he asked in a hushed voice as he sat me down next to him.

"Fine," I said, giving him a brave smile. His lack of a grin proved that he didn't believe me, but he nodded anyways.

"How's school going?" he asked gently, switching the subject. "Doing well?"

"Yeah," I said. "I've passed everything so far."

"I knew you would," he said, cracking his first grin since dinner. "Thinking of UDub?"

"Maybe," I teased, knowing very well that I would like nothing better than to go where my brothers were.

They were my solace.

"Emmett," said dad, cutting into our conversation. "Have you given any thought to where you'd like to sleep?"

Emmett just grinned.

"Doesn't matter to me," he said quickly. "Maybe Rose and I in the spare room?"

"It's still _your_ room," said Charlie gruffly, turning to face him. "Beds are still there and everything. _Spare room…."_ He shook his head and scowled, turning to Jasper.

"And you?"

"Wherever there's room," he said graciously.

"How about Emmett and Rose in your room, you and Alice in mine, and I'll take the couch."

"Sounds great," said Jasper, smiling at Alice.

"Are you girls alright sharing rooms with those two?" asked Charlie, shooting a sly grin at both his sons. Jasper just shook his head, smiling, and Emmett wheeled around in mock-offence.

"I'll have you know, old man, that Rosie and I are _plenty_ familiar with shared beds…"

"Emmett!" Rosalie's cheeks stained pink as she turned to face him, her eyes flashing.

Emmett and Charlie both laughed.

"I don't want to put these nice young ladies in an uncomfortable position," said Charlie, chuckling. "And no funny business, either, Mister."

Emmett waggled his eyebrows, shooting the red-faced Rosalie a wink.

ooOoo

When 11 o'clock rolled around, everyone was yawning and Charlie was nodding off in his La-Z-Boy chair. I was curled up on the sofa, my feet tucked securely under Emmett's legs, keeping my feet warm. Jasper had his arm around my shoulders, letting me rest on him as I tried my best to look sleepy, as everyone else did. The movie we'd all been watching had come to an end nearly five minutes ago, and as the last of the credits rolled, Jasper turned off the television.

"Bed, guys?" he said quietly, looking between the girls, Emmett and myself. "I'm done for."

Emmett sat up and stretched his long arms out, yawning.

"Sure," he said. "Rosie?"

"Yep," she said, standing and reaching out for his hand. "Goodnight, Bella. It was great meeting you."

"Goodnight, Rosalie."

She smiled gently at me and took Emmett's hand, letting him lead her up the staircase towards the bedroom he'd once shared with Jasper. Jasper nudged me away so he could sit up and show Alice the way to dad's room.

"See you in the morning, Bell," he said. "Love you."

"Love you too," I said quietly, standing carefully so as not to wake Charlie up. "Goodnight Alice."

"Goodnight, Bella," she replied, stepping forward to press a kiss to my sore cheek. I forced myself not to wince, and followed close behind. I had no desire to be left alone with Charlie in the dark living room, even if he was asleep. When we reached the top of the steps, Jasper went across the hall to the master bedroom and closed the door behind him, leaving me alone on the landing. I did my best to avoid the squeakiest floorboards on my way to my room, locking my door behind me.

I wasn't the least bit tired, and the quiet of the house was unnerving.

Trying to be as silent as possible, I put on the ugly pajamas I'd discarded last night and slipped under the sheets on my bed, drawing them up to my chin. The sound of my breathing was loud and cumbersome in the silence of the house. Without Charlie's snoring across the hall I had no way of knowing if he was awake or asleep, and the very thought unnerved me.

Emmett's snores soon took over for the usual noises dad made, but even as the clock flashed 3:08, sleep eluded me. Without warning, my stomach growled noisily in the dark, and my lack of dinner and episode of sickness caught up with me, leaving me famished.

Dad was a heavy sleeper, I knew, and with the boys upstairs, there would be little chance of the microwave waking them…

I rose from my bed and slid down the stairs, arriving in the kitchen without much ado. The refrigerator was easy to find, even in the dark, and when I opened the door, I had to blink away the spots in my vision. The pot of pasta and the covered salad bowl sat on the shelf in front of me, and I reached out to grab it.

It was only when I heard the soft breathing behind me that I realized there was no snoring coming from the living room.


	3. Chapter 3

The kitchen fell deadly silent as I stopped moving, straightening up to my full height. I listened in vain for a sound- _any_ sound- from the living room, but the breathing behind me grew harsher, and I heard his hoarse chuckle before he spoke.

"Come here, Bella," he said, and I felt a hot, sweaty hand on my shoulder.

"Dad," I whispered, careful to keep my voice down. "I was just getting some dinner…"

"I know what you're doing," he said, stepping up behind me. "Are you hungry, Bella?"

"Dad…"

"Are you _hungry?"_

I froze in place as he reached out and moved my hair, his hot breath sour in my nose as he pressed his lips to my neck. I felt a surge of panic in my belly at the thought of Charlie's brand of affection and my brothers sleeping just upstairs…

"They'll hear you," I pleaded. "Dad, not now…"

"I'll be real quiet, I promise," he grunted, reaching around to the front of my oversized shirt. His hand pressed into my belly, sliding ever upwards…

"Dad, _no,_" I insisted, wiggling away from him. I saw the rage flash across his face.

"Don't you _ever,"_ he barked, louder than I'd anticipated, "tell me _no."_ His hand moved to my shoulders and spun me around, the refrigerator door closing behind me. The kitchen was immersed in darkness with only a soft, low light emanating through the window from the lights outside.

Charlie's hands reached up my shirt again, grabbing as he rutted against me. I felt hot tears come to my eyes and I willed myself to call out, to just shout one word that would bring this hell to an end once and for all…

"Come to the sofa, baby," he crooned, nudging me forwards. "Daddy will take good care of you…"

"No." The word was loud and forceful in the silence of the kitchen, and I heard a bed creak upstairs.

_Please, please, please…_

"Little bitch," he snapped, grabbing the back of my neck to steer me in the right direction. The strength of his arm was no match for my struggling, and even when I leaned back and dug my heels into the floor, he could still move me.

"Don't you make one fucking sound," he growled lowly as my midriff collided with the armrest on the sofa. "Shut your fucking mouth and take it like a big girl."

"No," I said again, my voice losing its power. He had pressed himself onto my back, the weight making each breath a struggle. When I lurched back to take a breath, his body slammed back into mine, my right side colliding roughly with the couch. The feel of the rib cracking was more intense than I could have imagined, and it took the fight right out of me.

He pressed me down even harder as he worked on his zipper, reaching down between us to lower my pajama bottoms. Every breath I took sent a searing pain down my side, made even worse as I struggled against him.

"Stop it," he hissed, trying to get my bottoms off. "Stop wiggling, Bella."

"No."

"Fuck you," he barked, angry and frustrated. "_Stop it."_

"Get off of me!" I said, my voice wheezy. "Stop it!"

"Shut the fuck up!" he growled lowly, as the floorboards creaked upstairs.

"_Just one shout,"_ I thought desperately. _"Just one loud noise and one of them will come downstairs to check…"_

"I'll scream," I threatened, shoving back against him. He grunted in pain and let me go for a brief moment, letting me scramble away.

I backed up against the wall as he rose to full height, breathing heavily and nostrils flaring.

"Like hell you will," he said, gravelly and low. "Get the fuck over here, _right_ _now,_ young lady."

"No."

"Now!"

"No!"

The word spilled from my lips in a loud, shrill tone, and Charlie's look of panic told it all.

_Too loud._

"Dad?" came a quiet, disoriented voice from upstairs. "Bella?"

"You little whore," Charlie spat, lunging forward. He knocked into the coffee table, spilling half-empty beer cans and a cigarette ashtray on the floor. He had hidden his beer earlier in the day, but had not been able to resist once the boys had gone to bed.

There was no way sober Charlie would have touched me with his sons under his roof. There was no way he would have risked either of them finding out…

Charlie's hand cut off my inner dialogue when he wrapped it around my neck, sending me flying into the wall with a loud crash.

"What the hell? Dad! Bella!" Emmett's voice came much more urgently this time and I heard his scrambling footsteps on the upper floor of the house.

"Shut the fuck up!" Charlie growled. _"Shut up!"_

His hand closed around my throat and try as I might, there was no breath left to draw.

"I'll fucking kill you," he said, as black spots bloomed across my vision. My fingernails raked across his hand as I kicked and struggled, trying to throw him off. The hot blood that ran down his hands did nothing to loosen his grip, and before long, his snarling, angry face was all I could make out.

"Holy fuck! Dad! Let her go!" I heard Emmett's loud, booming voice filled with anger and fear as a hand just as large as Charlie's pulled the throttling hand back. My breath came back to me in a rush and I fell to the floor, retching on the hardwood as I did my best to breathe.

_Just breathe…_

"Holy fuck, oh shit…" There was a gentle hand on my back and Emmett sounded panicky, but through my coughing and streaming eyes, there was nothing I could say to calm him.

"Get the fuck away from her," Charlie barked, his words slurring together in a way that I hadn't noticed before. I felt the hand leave my back as I took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to regain my senses.

"Fuck you!" Emmett barked, holding out an arm to restrain our father. _"You_ get the fuck away from her! Jasper!"

"I fucking _warned _you!" Charlie cried angrily, struggling against his son's bulk as he pointed his finger at me. "I warned you!"

"I'm sorry," I choked out, hoping to whatever God existed that Charlie didn't hurt Emmett. Something seemed to click in Emmett's sleepy brain as he put the pieces together.

_Tonight's incident, the bruise on my cheek, the oversized sweater…_

"Oh _fuck_ no!" shouted Emmett, enraged. "You fucking _hit _her!?"

"What the hell is going on in here?"

"Get back upstairs and go to bed!" shouted Charlie. "Your brother caught me teaching your fucking sister a lesson, that's all."

"A _what,_ excuse me?"

"Get the fuck to bed!"

"Bella? Honey?" Jasper voice sounded worried as he approached me and I did my best to sit up, only to watch in horror as Jasper was grabbed roughly by Charlie and thrown back onto the coffee table. He caught himself on the edge with a wince before he turned steely eyes on Charlie, opening his mouth.

Emmett beat him to it and began shouting in earnest, and I couldn't help the cry that escaped me when Charlie's fist swung out and connected with Emmett's jaw.

"Get her the hell out of here, Jasper," he growled before he returned the favour, sending Charlie sprawling. Charlie cursed him and the two began to fight and as the noise grew, Rosalie and Alice peeked in from the staircase.

"What's going on?" squeaked Alice, fearful.

"Go to the car and lock the doors," Jasper ordered, handing her a keychain. "We'll be out shortly."

"Should we call the police?" asked Rosalie, nervous.

"Just go outside, please."

"Dad stop it!" I cried, finding some strength in my legs as Emmett suffered another blow to the face. "Stop it!"

"You little bitch!" he cried, turning away from Emmett. His hand swiped out at me and before either Emmett or Jasper could stop him, his hand connected with my cheek.

And again a second time.

"Oh my god!" squealed Alice, her hand over her mouth.

"Get her out of here!" roared Emmett, managing to put dad in a restrictive hold that he himself had taught Emmett in our youth.

"Sweetheart, come with me," said Jasper gently, urging me to my feet. My head was spinning as Jasper led me towards the downstairs bathroom, locking the door behind us as he sat me on the toilet seat.

The look on Jasper's tearstained face made my own feeble resolve crumble, and it took all I had to remain upright on my makeshift seat.

"How long?" he asked, gently taking my hands from my face. "How long has he been like this?"

"Mom." That lone word was all I could croak out, and I wasn't sure if I was referring to the time of Charlie's change, or my overwhelming need to have her back.

"Oh Bella," he said, drawing me in for a gentle hug. Even the gentleness of his embrace wasn't soothing to my injured side, and as soon as he applied pressure, I yelped and jerked away.

"Let me see," he said quietly, shifting immediately into medical mode.

"No, Jazz…" My protests went unanswered as he gently lifted the side of my shirt, exposing my ribs.

He pressed gently over a blossoming bruise and I felt my breath leave me, forcing me to retch once again over the edge of the tub. Jasper swore softly and held my hair for me, steadying me once the bout had finished.

"I'll fucking kill you too!" came Charlie's angry voice from the living room just outside. "I'll rip your throat out!"

"No…" I cried, reaching for the doorknob. Jasper intervened and forced my hand back, just as I felt the familiar bands of panic tightening around me.

"Emmett can hold his own," he said gently. "It's you that needs looking after. Take a deep breath for me, okay?"

I tried and tried to do as Jasper asked, but no matter what I visualized in my mind, the sounds from outside the door were too much.

I couldn't breathe.

"Jasper! Let's go!" The bathroom door burst open, lock broken, and a disheveled, bruised Emmett stormed in, stopping short when he took one look at me.

"Come on, Bell," he said, reaching over to help me up. My knees buckled when he tried to make me move, and I felt for one, sickening moment as if I would faint and throw up at the same time.

"Easy, Em," said Jasper, reaching out to steady me. "I'm sure she's got a fractured rib."

In response, my bloodied, bruised and angry brother scooped me up as if I weighed nothing at all and carried me as gently as he could. Charlie spat profanities at us as we passed him, though he made no move to follow.

Emmett had gotten him pretty good.

"As soon as we're out of this goddamn town, I'm calling the cops," spat Jasper angrily as he passed, pausing to take in the bloody sight. I saw his cold, stern visage waver for a brief moment before he asked the most burning question of all.

"What in God's name would possess you to do this? Why, dad?"

"Jasper, let's go," said Emmett gruffly.

"Why?" asked Jasper again, standing firm.

Charlie's eyes trained on me as he answered, flickering only briefly to Jasper.

"Don't _ever_ say no to me," he growled out, leaning forward with a grimace. He fell back against the front of his chair, rubbing his side where Emmett had done him some kind of injury.

"What?" barked Jasper, keen as ever.

"Let's go, Jasper," said Emmett darkly.

"Say no to what?" asked Jasper again, ignoring Emmett.

_Please don't ask…_

"Let's go," said Emmett again, his voice darker and more sinister than I'd ever heard it. "Call Carlisle and the cops on the road, Jasper. _Move."_

Jasper moved away from our drunken father slowly and methodically, as if it took all of his control to retreat. I turned my face into Emmett's shoulder as Jasper turned to us, his face an icy mask. Once in the kitchen, Emmett readjusted me and forced my face up so Jasper could see the newest marks. The sharp, fluorescent light in the kitchen flickered to life and I flinched away, the harsh luminescence making blue and red spots dance across the ceiling.

"Deep breaths, honey," Jasper reminded me, using the light to examine my face where Charlie had struck me. He wiped a tear from my cheek and kissed the new bruise carefully, pausing only for a few seconds

"Get her out to the car and turn the heat on," he ordered carefully. "Where's your jacket, Bell?"

"Closet," I rasped out, my voice scratchy and strained.

"Get her out of here, Emmett," said Jasper urgently. "Please."

"Easy now, Bell," soothed Emmett gently, slipping on his old sneakers as he used his own jacket to cover me. It was misting outside, and even covered, the air was cold.

"We'll get you to the doctor, 'kay?" he said, rambling as he moved to the Jeep. "It'll be all right again, you'll see. No, don't fall asleep…" His words sounded urgent as I closed my eyes against his chest. I forced them open and tried to take a deeper breath, resulting in a wracking cough that made my brother pause.

The hustle and bustle of the car was noisy and disorienting, and my fatigue hit me full force once the car's heater was trained on me. I was laid across the back seat of the car, my feet in Rosalie's lap and my head on Emmett's. Jasper took the wheel and moved very quickly to the center of town, and I couldn't help but protest when he pulled into the parking lot of Forks Memorial Hospital.

"You're getting checked out," said Jasper firmly, turning the car off. Hands helped me maneuver myself out of the car and into the cold lot, and before I could process what was happening, I was steered directly through the emergency room doors.

"Oh my!" cried a familiar nurse, Julie, taking in mine and Emmett's injuries. "Come right on back."

"I don't want to," I protested, shaking my head when the nurse came back with a wheelchair. Jasper ignored my plea and gently coaxed me into sitting down, taking charge of the chair himself as we followed the nurse.

"The doctor will be right in," she said quickly, hooking me up to a machine that took my blood pressure.

The cuff tightened on the marks on my arm, and it was all I could do not to cry out.

"Was it your brother who did this, Bella?" she asked, purposefully ignoring Jasper.

"No!" I cried, my voice catching as my side flared. "No! Emmett would never…"

"It was dad, Julie," said Jasper, his voice catching. "Emmett caught him and beat the shit out of him."

"Chief Swan?" gasped the woman, staring. "No, not Charlie…"

"Yes, Charlie," said Jasper. "Can you check her ribs, please? I'm pretty sure she's got a fracture."

"I want to go, Jazz," I pleaded as Julie reached down and lifted my top. She clucked at whatever she found there, her gentle fingers sending flares of pain up my side.

"I'll send you straight to x-ray once Doctor Cullen has a look at you," she said.

"Carlisle?" Jasper asked quickly.

"You know Doctor Cullen?" asked Julie, smiling. "He comes down twice a month to take an on-call rotation and give old Doctor Gerandy a break. Such a kind man…"

"He's rents to Emmett and I," said Jasper brusquely. "Is he here now?"

"Of course," said Julie, offering me an quiet smile as she bustled out.

"Come up on the table, Bell," said Jasper gently, offering me his arms as I struggled out of the wheelchair.

"I just want to go home, Jazz," I pleaded. "I'm fine. Can we please go home?"

"Not yet."

Jasper adjusted me on the table and took careful stock of all my visible injuries, no doubt filing them away for later contemplation.

"Change into this, Bell," he said, offering me a hospital gown from the drawer beneath the exam table.

I flushed bright red.

"Jasper, please…"

"Bella, you've got broken ribs, countless bruises, a black eye and what feels like a fever," he argued. "Let us help you."

Jasper was kind enough to close the curtains of the little cubicle I was in and stand guard to make sure no one slipped in. I heard the nurse return and an unfamiliar male voice spoke out just as I was tying the final knot, and Jasper peeked in.

"Done?"

"Yeah."

"This is Carlisle, Bella," said Jasper gently, leading an older man to the exam table behind him. "He owns the boarding house where Emmett and I stay."

"It's not a boarding house, Jasper," said Carlisle, offering him a small smile. "You and Emmett are family."

Jasper just smiled, terse.

"Jasper tells me you've had a bit of a run-in with your father," said Carlisle gently. "Would you mind if I took a look at you, to make sure everything's okay?"

"I just want to go home," I said, trying to keep my tears at bay. "Is Emmett okay?"

"He insisted I look at you first, and I must say, I agree," said Carlisle, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. "Emmett's going to be just fine. He's just a little bruised."

"Let him look, Bell," urged Jasper. "For me? Please?"

I fell limp on the table and let the doctor do as he pleased. I felt him prodding my arms, assessing the motion of my wrists and neck, looking at all my joints and looking even more closely at the bruises.

"I'm sure you've got a fracture," he said sadly, skillfully untying only one of the knots that held my gown together at the side. I felt his chilly fingers poking and for the umpteenth time that night, I felt like I might be sick.

"Deep breath for me?" he asked, putting his stethoscope on my chest. I did my best to obey, but couldn't help the cry that escaped when my side was met the pressure from his instrument.

"I'm sending you for an x-ray," he began gently. "Is there any chance you're pregnant?"

The word surged through my brain like a jolt of electricity, and I tried to sit up.

"Hey there," said Jasper, alarmed. "Take it easy, kiddo…"

"I want to leave," I rasped, swallowing bile at the very thought. "No x-rays, I just want to go…"

"You're a minor, Bella, and you need care," said Jasper, taking my face in his hands. "What's wrong with an x-ray? You're not…" His voice turned serious as his eyes flickered down to my midriff, obviously examining me for signs of a baby.

"I don't think so," I said, my voice quaking at the very thought.

_There was nothing I wanted less than Charlie's baby growing inside of me._

"What do you mean, 'don't think so'?" he asked sharply. "Have you been sexually active?"

"Jasper." Carlisle's voice was soft and warning as my brother's sharp words stung me, making me shrink away.

"Bella?" asked Jasper again, refusing to break eye contact. "Have you had sex? Is there a chance you're pregnant?"

"_Jasper."_

"I want to go home," I pleaded. "Please, I'll be fine…"

"What does that mean, Bella?" he asked again, his voice going from stern to uncertain.

"_Jasper!"_ Carlisle spoke sharply, giving my brother a stern look. "Jasper's going to take a walk. I have a few more questions…"

"Like hell I am!" said Jasper, outraged.

The very thought of Jasper leaving made me panic, and as I had earlier in the bathroom, I felt breathless.

"Don't go," I said, shaking my head. "Please don't leave me here…"

"Never."

"I have a few personal questions that might be easier to answer if Jasper's not here," said Carlisle gently. "He can come right back in…"

"No."

"Alright," he said gently. "Bella, were you raped?" Jasper's eyes focused intently on the tile floor, no doubt to make me as comfortable as possible.

"I…" My voice failed me as I tried to avoid the answer I knew would make Charlie furious. The silence lasted too long, however, and Carlisle spoke again.

"Did your father ever make inappropriate advances towards you?" asked Carlisle, his voice professional and kind.

I felt my face flame red as I buried it in my palms, nodding silently.

I heard Jasper curse.

"Did he ever go further than suggestions?" asked Carlisle. "Did he ever touch you inappropriately?"

My whole body shook and I felt as though I would be sick as I nodded again, in that moment almost _feeling_ Charlie's phantom hands where they shouldn't ever have been.

"Alright," he said. "Did Charlie ever force you to have sexual intercourse with him?" Carlisle asked gently, taking my hand.

Following my pattern of nods, I gave a small, feeble nod of assent before the dam I'd put up since the car ride broke down and I began to shake with terrible sobs. Jasper punched the side of the exam table and cursed again, immediately taking my shaking body into his arms. He took a deep, angry breath before he calmed himself.

"It'll be okay, sweetheart," he crooned gently. "You'll see. It'll be okay…"

"Bella?" Emmett's loud voice boomed through the nearly empty emergency room before the curtain around my little bed flew open, revealing a properly stitched and bandaged Emmett. Nurse Julie must have taken care of him.

"Jasper?" he asked quietly, seeing our brother's tears as he kissed mine away. "What's going on?"

"Sit down," said Jasper. "Carlisle needs to run some more tests, and then we can get out of here."

"What tests?"

"Bella?" said Jasper, stroking a wet tendril of hair out of my face. "You can keep this as private or public as you'd like…"

I just shrugged and let my red face fall back onto his shoulder, thanking every God I knew that Charlie's sons had not turned out like him. Emmett would need to know…

I heard Jasper whisper that dirty word Carlisle had first said to me, and while predictable, Emmett's reaction was vicious.

"Calm yourself, or you'll have to leave," said Carlisle softly, returning to my cubicle with new gloves, a gurney and nurse Julie. "Keep it quiet, okay?"

Emmett's glare was mutinous, but at the threat of being tossed out, he quieted himself.

"I'll kill him myself if they don't," he growled as I was helped onto the rolling bed. "I swear to God, Jazz, I will _kill_ him."

"Shush," said Jasper angrily. "Now's not the time. Just _look_ at her…"

"Shit, Bell," he said, contrite as he stepped forward. "I love you, okay? Just know that. Always."

I hitched my blanket up higher as a nurse wheeled me around, facing the hallway.

"See you in a few, Bella," said Jasper. "We'll be waiting right here."

_I couldn't go alone…_

"Wait!" I called, jerking around to keep them in sight. "Not by myself! Please!" _I never wanted to be by myself again. _I twisted myself around to try and disentangle myself from the blankets and remove myself from the gurney.

My side flared with pain again and with a sharp _pop_, I knew I'd moved the wrong way.

"Lay down," said the nurse softly. "I'll come fetch one of them in a moment, once you're settled in…"

I tried to take a deep breath of relief, only to find that the breath I took was too shallow… too quick…

"I can't breathe," I croaked, eyes widening as the real fear took hold. Doctor Cullen arrived just in time to hear my words and he hurriedly moved nurse Julie out of his way, reaching down to press on my injured side again.

"Deep breath," he ordered sternly, pressing his stethoscope to me again. I began to feel lightheaded as I tried to do as I was told, only to have black blotches invade my vision.

"Jasper, get _back,"_ ordered Doctor Cullen as my brother rushed forward. "Julie, page respiratory and move her to Trauma 1."

"Of course," said the startled nurse. I felt myself being wheeled away from the family who loved me and into a cold, clinical medical room with a strange man I didn't know. I panicked as his hands removed my covers and began to undo my gown, the cold air hitting my chest…

"You're lung's punctured," he said gently, reaching over for scissors to undo the most tedious knots. "I'm going to relieve the pressure, but I'm going to need you to just relax and breathe, okay?"

The black across my line of sight was nearly constant now, and even as he spoke those words to me, they sounded tinny and far-away.

"Bella? Can you hear me?"

"Bella?"

"_Bella…..?"_


	4. Chapter 4

"I've paged Doctor Cromwell. She'll be in soon to do the examination."

"She's not even _conscious_ yet, for god's sake—"

"Of course we'll wait until she's awake." Doctor Cullen's voice sounded displeased, and I felt the hand gripping mine tighten.

I took a deep breath, trying to find my bearings, only to be dragged roughly back to reality with the sharp pain in my side.

"Easy, Bella," said Jasper's soothing voice. "Not too fast."

"Jasper." My tongue felt thick and stupid as it formed the word, and I blinked my eyes open. The harsh fluorescent light was the first thing I saw, the bright whiteness forcing me to squeeze them shut. The next glance was tentative and I was careful not to look at it too directly.

"Hey there," said Emmett, speaking from my other side. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," I said, my voice raspy.

"Do you know where you are, Bella?" asked Jasper.

"Hospital," I said quietly. "Can I go home?"

"Not quite yet," said Carlisle softly, speaking from the foot of my bed. "We still need to figure out where you'll be going." The words made me nervous and I looked away from the gentle, blue eyes an down at my feet.

"My coworker, Darla Cromwell, will be coming in to examine you further," said Carlisle softly. "She'll need to do a sexual assault examination." At those words, my face flamed red and I shifted uncomfortably, wondering what burst of insanity had prompted me to admit such atrocities to my brothers.

When I remembered that they were right beside me, my eyes began to sting.

"Can't we just go?" I pleaded, chancing a glance at the youngest of my brothers. He was the least volatile of the two, and the one who was least likely to say something insensitive.

"The police need the test results, Bell," Jasper explained, his voice soft. "They're going to need evidence if they want to press charges."

"Charges?" I blurted, glancing back towards Emmett. His face was hard as stone as he watched me.

"Yeah, charges," he said lowly. "The deputies have him in custody, but to hold him they need some kind of proof."

"You called the police?" I gasped, trembling. "Why would you—"

"Why would I?" he boomed, incredulous as he leaned in closer to me. "Why? Because he hurt you, that's why. Because he deserves every damn bit of justice we can give him. I'll be _god-damned_ if they let him do _anything_ like this to _anyone_ ever again—"

"He's going to be mad," I protested, my voice breaking. "Oh, you don't _know_ how mad he'll be!"

"He can't hurt you anymore," said the kind Doctor. "This isn't something law enforcement takes lightly."

My stomach clenched with fear as I saw Charlie's angry face in my mind's eye, his hand reaching out to slap me for speaking out. I could almost _hear_ his rage, his cruel names and his threats of violence…

"Hello Isabella," said a gentle, female voice from the doorway. I chanced a glance up, my face flaming red when the woman came in, wheeling a cart behind her. "My name's Darla Cromwell, and I'm here to examine you. Boys, would you give us some privacy?"

Carlisle sighed and whispered something to the woman on his way out, leaving me alone with her and my brothers.

"I'll be right outside the door, Bell," said Emmett roughly. "If you need me, just call." I wanted very badly for one of them to stay, but at the thought of being examined _down there_, my desire wavered.

I didn't want them here for that.

"Alright," said Dr. Cromwell, closing the door behind Jasper when he left the room. I stared up at her apprehensively as she approached my bed, drawing a chair up to sit next to me.

"I understand that this is a very difficult situation for you," she began, her voice gentle and kind, "but it's important for you to answer some questions. Do you think you can do that for me?"

I nodded, trying my best to avoid her very blue, very direct, gaze.

"Alright," she said. "When was your last period?"

Even that question had me balking, and it was only with great reservation that I replied.

"Two weeks ago."

"Excellent," she said, checking a box on her papers. "How about contraceptives?"

"No."

"No condom or birth control?" she asked.

I shook my head curtly, resting my chin on my knees. I closed my eyes and tried my best to block out the sterile whiteness of the hospital room, and the doctor's kind, probing eyes.

"Have you showered since the attack?" she asked.

"No."

"Bathed?"

"No."

"Any medical history I should know about? Diseases? Illnesses?"

"No…" I said, opening my eyes to think. "I don't think so."

"Doctor Cullen obtained a blood sample from you earlier," she soothed, resting her hand on mine. "And neither brother mentioned any prior health concerns."

"Okay."

"Have you ever been pregnant?" she asked.

"No."

I opened my eyes once more when the scratching of the doctor's pen was all I could hear. Chancing a glance, I saw her filling a form with information, checking boxes and filling in blanks.

I didn't even try to read it.

"I'm going to have to ask you some more sensitive questions now, alright?" she said, her voice growing even more gentle. "I understand they might be hard to answer, but it's very important for me to know the whole truth."

I didn't respond, and she continued.

"How long has it been since the assault?" she asked.

"A few days," I said, biting my lip as I hiked the blanket higher.

"Can you be a little more specific?"

"I don't know," I said, frowning. "The day before yesterday."

"Friday?" she prompted.

"At night."

"Okay." Her pen scratched again, and my skin began to crawl. I could feel his hands…

"Was it the first time you'd had a sexual encounter?"

I flushed red as I shook my head, trying to keep my breaths steady.

"Was it the first non-consensual sexual experience?"

It took me a minute to decipher her words in my head, but once I did, my eyes began to water.

"No."

Charlie would kill me for sure.

Doctor Cromwell's questions continued on for another few minutes, each growing more and more intrusive than the last. She asked me how often Charlie used me. Whether or not I was in pain. What kinds of sex Charlie liked. If he'd ever done anything _especially_ deviant that might have caused me injury.

It took some coaxing on her part for me to admit to the belt, which Charlie had used on a few occasions when he was particularly randy. She assured me that she would take a look at the scars on my back, just to make sure they had healed properly.

"The police have requested physical evidence," said Doctor Cromwell gently, once her line of questioning was finished. "Are you okay if I take some pictures?"

"Of what?" I asked, hesitant. Surely not _down there_ pictures…

"Of your arms, and neck," she said. "And your fingernails."

"My fingernails?" I said, confused as I looked down. It was only when I saw the dark blood underneath them that I remembered raking them down Charlie's hand earlier this evening.

"I'll collect DNA evidence in a few minutes," she said gently. "Will you sign a consent to give them access to the photos?"

Knowing Emmett would throw an even bigger fit if I refused, I nodded resignedly, sitting up straighter for the doctor to do her job. The camera's flash was bright and disorienting as I lifted my arms and head to show the burgeoning bruises, wondering just how upset Charlie would be when it was all done.

* * *

I fisted my hands in Jasper's grey pyjama shirt as I tried to staunch the flow of tears, deep, shuddering breaths doing nothing to calm my frazzled nerves. My entire lower half ached, an uncomfortable reminder of what Charlie had done. Doctor Cromwell's probing fingers had only made things worse, and she'd been forced to call Jasper back inside when I panicked.

Jasper had come in to the room, frightened and worried, doing his best to distract me from the goings on at the end of the bed. I had been more than a little embarrassed to have him nearby when such an event was taking place, but he never once commented or teased.

When the doctor had pushed down on my sore, crampy belly I had lost total control of myself, succumbing to the flood of emotion that had threatened to break loose all night. She finished up quickly and removed my feet from the stirrups, but not before advising my brother to be gentle.

"It's done, kiddo," he said gently, rocking back and forth. "It's all done…"

My entire form shook violently against him as another wave of tears came on, leaving me at Jasper's mercy.

"Emmett's going to be here in a few minutes with some food," he said quietly, trying to distract me. "Do you think you can eat?"

"No."

"Okay," he said, running a hand down my back. "Just take it easy, Bell."

I was sure my face was red and swollen when my other brother poked back inside, his eyes scanning the room before he took a step inside.

"Hey," he said, nodding to Jasper. "Rose and Alice are waiting outside."

"They should go home," said Jasper gently. "We might be here for a while yet."

"I told them that," he said quietly. "Rose threatened to have me neutered."

Jasper's barking laugh startled me with its suddenness.

"You up for some early breakfast, Bell?" asked Emmett, sitting himself behind me on the bed. I felt the familiar, big hand on my shoulder before I shook my head, my stomach rebelling at the very idea of food.

"I got muffins," he said, doing his best to entice me. "Not even a bite?"

"No thanks."

"I spoke to the police," said Emmett gently, forcing one of my hands to release Jasper's shirt. He held it firmly in his own, running his thumb over my knuckles. "They want a statement from you and they're letting you come home with us."

"Good," said Jasper, breathing a sigh of relief. "I'd wondered…"

"Carlisle's promised to keep an eye on you," he said. "If you consent to going, they'll grant him temporary custody."

"Okay," I said, taking a deep, calming breath.

"Carlisle says you can write down what you remember, and he'll pass it on to the police department in Seattle," said Emmett gently. "But you don't have to worry about that right now."

"Okay."

"Carlisle's releasing you soon, so you can come home when he's done his shift," continued Emmett. "Are you feeling well enough to leave?"

"Yes," I said, shifting to look up. I wanted nothing more than to be free of this white, sterile prison.

"Alright," said Emmett softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the crown of my head. "I love you."

"Yeah," I said, glancing up through my teary lashes to see his face. He offered me a half-hearted grin when I replied in kind, gently ruffling my hair.

"Just a little longer, and we'll blow this popsicle stand," he said. "Just rest for now."

"Yeah."

I did my best.

* * *

The unfamiliar car with the fancy leather seats smelled like pine.

"We're nearly there now," said Jasper gently, squeezing my hand. Dr. Cullen's eyes flickered back to the two of us in his rearview mirror, his gaze lingering on me.

"Tired?" asked the doctor gently, his eyes softening as I glanced up.

"A little," I said awkwardly, shifting in my seat.

"Esme's got a bed ready for you," he continued. "You can shower when you get in and then I'll give you something to help you sleep."

"Okay."

The pine smell was overwhelming, and I pressed my nose into my sleeve to dissipate it.

"Nauseous?" asked Jasper sympathetically, rubbing my back as I breathed in through my mouth.

"No." _In, out. In, out…_

"Alright." His voice was thick with disbelief and sympathy, and my face flamed red.

Carlisle, having overheard our hushed discussion, cracked his window open, letting the cool morning air wash over me. I breathed it in with relish.

We had driven through the main city center of Seattle, and were now cruising through the suburbs. Jasper had told me when we slipped into the doctor's Mercedes back in Forks that the house they were staying in was both grand and secluded. The area we were driving through now seemed like a place where the rich folks lived, as I had never seen houses of such size and scale in person before.

Maybe on a house-hunting show, but never with my own eyes.

"How much longer?" I asked.

"A few minutes," said Jasper. "The turn off is just right there."

Sure enough, when I glanced up, we were driving past the final houses on the block, the road ending with a "Private Property" sign and a long, narrow laneway.

The car leaned gently to the right as we made the turn, and the bumps got worse.

"Sorry," said Jasper unnecessarily, seeing my discomfort as the ride jostled my ribs. I grimaced and he helped me sit up straight, trying to make things as easy as possible. Carlisle slowed the car down in an attempt to lessen the blows, but that only made every pothole and divot even more pronounced. He did his best to find the perfect speed, but by the time we reached the end of the drive, my side was throbbing.

"Here we are," said Jasper gently, unbuckling my belt as I tried to take a deep breath. I opened my eyes and peeked outside, my jaw slackening when I saw the monstrosity before me.

"_This_ is where you live?" I blurted, earning me a laugh from our driver.

"It's a little grand," said Carlisle gently, turning to face us, "but it's been home for me since the day I was born."

"Oh."

"Come on inside, you two, and we'll get Bella settled." His voice was gentle and kind as he exited the car, opening the door closest to me with a gentle flourish. I stared apprehensively as he offered me his hand, helping me up from my seat.

"There are only a few steps," he warned, glancing at the door. "Do you need help up?"

"No thank you," I squeaked, my shoulders hunching as I took a step back. "I'm okay."

Carlisle opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the loud, obnoxious rumble of my brother's big Jeep. I frowned as he revved around the corner, coming to a hasty halt right behind the fancy black Mercedes.

It was only 9 in the morning, and I feared his noise would wake up Mrs. Cullen.

"How was your ride, Bell?" he asked, jumping down from the driver's seat. "You okay?"

"I'm good," I lied, wishing my sudden anxiety away. "Tired."

"Of course you are," he said, taking great strides towards me. "Come on inside and get some sleep."

Rosalie and Alice emerged from the back of the Jeep much more gently than my brother had, Rosalie stopping to close Emmett's door as she approached, solemn and frowning.

"Is Esme up?" she asked, glancing at Carlisle.

"I'm sure…"

"Carlisle!" came a loud voice from the house, and all heads wheeled around to look.

A woman stood in the wide doorway of the house, her hair tossed back in a hasty ponytail, a robe covering her nightdress. Her small feet were bare as she rushed out of the house, down the steps and onto the cold stone path to the cars, her eyes bright and sleep-deprived as she passed by her husband.

"Sweetheart, you must be exhausted," she said, barely stopping to greet Carlisle as she took me into her arms. "Come inside and get cleaned up. Are you hungry?"

This woman reminded me wholeheartedly of my own mother that I so often tried to avoid remembering. As Mrs. Cullen's worried eyes peered into my own, I couldn't help but imagine Renee, looking at me much the same way whenever I was hurt or sick.

"Oh goodness, sweetheart, please don't cry!" she said gently, drawing me in for another hug. "There now… That's right." I clenched my teeth together and did my best to stop before the floodgates opened. I didn't even know this woman…

"My name's Esme," she said gently, pressing her lips to my cheek as she pulled away. "Let's get you inside."

"Thank you," I managed, letting her lead me up the few steps into the house.

"You're very welcome," she said breezily, taking my coat from my hands as soon as it was off and handing it to Emmett. "Come, and we'll shower, alright?"

"Okay."

Jasper offered me an encouraging smile as Esme led me through the house, barely allowing me any time to look around as we went. As we passed what looked like a kitchen, I caught a glimpse of another stranger, a flash of ruddy hair at the table.

I thought I saw him glance up, but by the time I could turn to look again, we had passed him by.

"Here we are," said Esme, ushering me into a spacious bathroom. I pointedly avoided my reflection in the mirror as Esme reached into the shower stall and adjusted the temperature, procuring towels and washcloths from a cabinet.

"Take these and go on inside," she urged. "I'll come back in a few minutes with some clothes for you to wear."

"Thanks, Esme," I said, testing the name on my tongue.

"You're very welcome, sweetheart," she said, smiling a sadder smile than before. "Go and get cleaned up, and we'll see about breakfast."

"Alright."

When Esme left me alone the bathroom, I took a shaky breath and began to strip down. My ribs flared whenever I moved my arm, and my neck complained when I touched it, but the temptation of the shower was too much to pass up. Come hell or high water, I was determined to wash.

The stream of water was hot and steamy, and the strawberry shower products were suspiciously similar to the ones I used at home. My nails raked my scalp as I scrubbed the oil and dirt from my hair, and I found myself welcoming the sting.

I needed to feel clean.

The washcloth Esme had given me was plush and thick, and when I lathered it up with soap, I found myself rubbing most vehemently over my arms and torso. The force of the scrubbing left red scratches down my belly, but I didn't care.

Being naked brought the memory of his hands back, and I found myself rubbing most viciously over the places where his hands had been. I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed against my hips, my arms, _down there…_

I made the water a little hotter, directing the spray at my face. For a moment, the burn was insufferable, but with a little determination, I forced myself to endure.

Once I'd acclimated, my hand inched closer to the hot water knob again.

_A little warmer…_

"Are you okay, honey?" came Esme's gentle voice, and I jumped and wheeled around. The glass walls of the shower were all steamed up, and I couldn't tell where her voice was coming from.

"Fine," I said, my voice cracking as I wrapped my arms around myself.

What if she saw?

"I've got you some clothes," she said. "I'm afraid they're going to be a bit big on you, but they'll do until we can get you some new things."

"Thank you."

_Please leave…_

"Do you need any help?" she asked.

"No thanks," I said, turning the water up a _little _more…

"Alright. Call if you need anything."

"I will."

The door clicked shut, and I turned the water up again.

The little voice in my head popped back in, no doubt to interject its opinion with some malicious mental commentary, but I drowned it out with a burst of piping hot water over my neck and chest.

I endured the burn for a few moments before it became too much, and I slammed my hand down on the tap, turning the water off altogether. I took a few deep breaths and glanced down at my newly-cleaned body, my face heating up at the sight of the lobster-red skin.

Would they know what I had done?

I ignored my embarrassment for once in my life and used Esme's soft towels to dry off, wrapping my hair up before I grabbed the clothes I'd been given, noting that they were men's clothes, not women's.

"Bella?" Esme's knuckles knocked gently on the door once more, and I put the clothing on as quickly as I could.

The drawstring on the pants were my saving grace.

"Yes?" I asked, opening the door to peek outside.

"Oh good," said Esme, taking me in. "I was worried they'd be bigger…"

"Oh."

"Rosalie offered to lend you something, but she's not exactly a modest sleeper," said Esme, chuckling. "Jasper was more than willing to oblige."

"Oh," I said again, this time with more interest, glancing down at the comfortable pants and oversized t-shirt.

"I've got a bed ready for you down here," said Esme, removing the towel from my hair. She procured a hairbrush from under the bathroom sink and removed the cardboard wrapping, gently running it through the knotted ends of my hair.

It felt nice, and I blushed.

"Was your shower too warm?" she asked nervously, pressing a hand to my red, splotchy arm.

"No," I said quickly. "I like it hot."

"Alright," she said, not entirely convinced. "Am I pulling too hard?"

"No." She ran the brush up through the rest of my hair, using the towel to pat it dry before she pulled it back into a loose braid.

"There we go, sweetheart," she said. "Come on out to the sitting room. Carlisle's got some medicine for you to take."

"Okay," I said, turning to face her. "How long am I going to stay here?"

"Don't worry about that now," said Esme, smiling. "You can't very well go back to your father's house, and Carlisle and I are more than happy to have you."

"Oh."

"Come on out," she said again, offering me her hand. "I think he's got something for your ribs."

_Yes, please._

When we left the bathroom, I was very glad to note that almost everyone had scattered, leaving only the kind doctor and my brothers in the sitting room. Both Em and Jasper looked up when Esme ushered me inside, and Carlisle stood.

"Here's something that'll help you rest," he said gently, offering me a water bottle and a little cup with a pill inside. "It's for pain."

"Thank you."

"No problem," he said, satisfied when I swallowed it down without complaint. The chalky, medicinal taste of it made me grimace, and I tried to rinse my mouth with some more water.

"Are you hungry?" asked Jasper gently, his eyes stuck on me.

"No."

"You should eat something," said Carlisle quietly. "You'll feel better for it."

"How about some toast?" said Esme, jumping up from beside me.

She looked so eager, I couldn't help but say yes.

"Wonderful," she said. "I'll be right back."

* * *

The bed was warm and soft, and I couldn't help but snuggle in. After my buttered toast, the pill began to take effect, and I found that as my pain receded, I grew more and more drowsy.

Esme had been more than eager to take me to bed, tucking me in under the heavy duvet. Emmett had boldly followed her inside, leaving Jasper to wait in the doorway, leaning on the frame as he observed.

"Have a good sleep, Bell," he said gently, smiling. "Come on, Em."

"Yeah," said Emmett, rising up from where he had been sitting by my side. "Sweet dreams, Bell."

"See you later?" I asked, yawning.

"For sure," he said. "When you wake up, just yell and I'll be right here."

"Okay."

My eyelids were heavy, and when Esme closed the curtains on the window, the dark made it even easier to drift away.

"G'night."

"Love you, Bell."

_Love you too._


	5. Chapter 5

_It's not real. This _can't_ be real._

"Bella!" Her voice echoed strangely through the empty house, her laughter filtering down from the bedroom she shared with Charlie.

"Come and find me!"

"Mom?" I called, squinting in the dark. I was back at Charlie's house, with the peeling paint, fluorescent lights and missing baseboards. "Mom?"

"Bella!" The voice called again, the cheerful trill of laughter trickling down after it.

"Mom!"

"Where are you?" sang the voice, and my heart sped up. "Come upstairs!"

I was strangely graceful as I rushed through the familiar house I'd called home for my entire life. Like it always had, the bottom step creaked when I stepped on it. The light switch next to the staircase, while still in the same place it had always been, didn't do a thing when I reached over and flicked it on.

It seemed darker upstairs.

"Mom?" I called again, hesitating as I remembered the last time I'd seen her. Last time, she'd been silent. Last time, she'd been broken.

Last time, she'd been dead.

No response followed my query, and my heart sped up. My feet moved the rest of the way up the stairs, and I squinted through the blackness. The door to my parent's bedroom was shut tight, and when my blind groping found the knob, it was locked.

"Mom!" I called, panic surging through me. _Where was Charlie?_

"What the _fuck_ were you doing with _him!?" _bellowed a nastily familiar voice from a floor below. "Are you fucking him!?"

"Charlie _please—"_

"Are you!?" A loud bang shook the floor I was standing on, and I slammed my eyes shut tight.

"_Dreaming,"_ I thought wildly. _"You're just dreaming…"_

This _couldn't_ be real.

The shouting grew louder and louder as I stood, feet chilled on the wood floors. I clamped my hand over my ears in a feeble attempt to block out the noise, but even then I could still hear mom's wails.

"Charlie _don't! _Bella's upstairs. You'll wake her up..."

Charlie's deep voice retorted with a string of venomous insults, and I felt the house shake again. As Charlie beat her, I did what I'd done that night last year… I clamped my eyes shut, blocked my ears, and pretended it wasn't happening.

_Coward._

I slid down the wall and rested my head on my knees, trying my best to block out the noise. Strangely, however, the sound seemed to seep right through my fingers, assaulting my ears with determined persistence. Renee's cries and pleads reached me with no trouble at all, and no matter how hard I tried, I was unable to dull them.

"_Help her," _came the little voice in my head. _"For god's sake, do _something…"

"Mom," I called feebly, getting to my feet. My eyes opened, and I was startled to find myself in my bedroom, as it had been last year. There was a family photo on the dresser, a boy band poster on the wall, and a pile of books on the nightstand that I'd always cherished.

_But those were gone now…_

"Mom?" I called, louder, as I glanced down at my bare feet. The bottoms of pink pyjama pants rustled around my ankles, and with a jolt of fear, I knew what was happening.

They would be red by the time this night was over.

"Mom!" I cried, a wave of panic surging through me as I heard her cries slowing. "Mom!"

"Bitch!" I heard Charlie roar. "Slut!"

_No._

Something inside me was torn between going and staying. I knew what I'd find if I went, but I knew what would _happen_ if I didn't. Maybe this time, I'd get there sooner. Maybe this time, everything would be okay…

When my feet hit the bottom of the staircase and I peered into the dimly lit living room, I knew everything would _not _be okay. Just like it had been before, the room was in total disarray. The couch had been shoved forward at an odd angle, the coffee table was overturned, and the television had been knocked from its stand. There was broken glass strewn on the floor and an ashtray had been upended, scattering hot cigarette butts across the small area rug.

But it wasn't those things that got my attention. With a sickening jolt, the sight of _her_ came rushing back. My eyes zeroed in on the crumpled, bloody form on the floor, with my father lurking over her, eyes wild and feral.

He kicked her again, and she didn't even cry.

"You're a _whore_," he spat, gripping her hair in his fist to bring her ear closer to his face. _"Fuck you."_

The scream that left my mouth was hoarse and shrill, and it seemed to snap Charlie out of his fervor. With a startled jump, he dropped my mother to the floor and turned his eyes on me, breathing hard.

There was a long moment of silence, neither one of us knowing what to say. It was Charlie who broke the quiet first, speaking in a shaking voice.

"Bella…" he said, raising two bloody hands in surrender. I watched, wide-eyed and petrified, as his hands dripped crimson onto the floor.

"There was an accident," said Charlie slowly, as if speaking to an invalid. "Your mother… God, I tried. I _tried, _baby. Come here." He waved his hands at me, as if encouraging me to move closer. I stayed still.

"What did you do?" The words came out of my mouth in a strangled squeak, and without my consent, my legs drew me closer to her. Charlie watched, swallowing thickly, as I knelt in the scarlet pool and rested a shaking hand on her shoulder, feeling her lingering warmth. She was face down on the floor, and although a niggling memory screamed at me to leave her that way, my hands gripped her shoulders and turned.

Although it wasn't the first time I'd seen it, the sight of her still send me reeling, and I heard my shrill screams and felt hot tears as they ran down my cheeks.

It didn't even look like a face.

"What did you _do!?"_ I screamed, shaking mom in a desperate attempt to wake her. "Mom!"

_Please wake up._

Charlie said nothing as he stalked outside, locking the back door behind him.

_She can't be dead. She can't be dead._

I screamed again as the back door crashed open, Charlie's old, worn boot sending bits of wood flying into the kitchen. He stormed into the house with them on before he kicked them off into the fireplace.

"Go and get me some kindling from outside," said Charlie brusquely. "Quickly, Bella."

And like the good girl I was, I did as I was told. As I had the first time, I slipped on the slick, wet floor on my way out, spreading the mess into the kitchen.

"Bella!"

My red footprints marred the gleaming, white floor that had been meticulously polished earlier that day.

"Wake up, sweetheart."

_The night was cold._

"Hey, come on…"

_The air smelled damp._

"There we go. Good girl."

My eyes shot open with a gasp, and I stared at the face hovering above me.

"You're okay," said Emmett, his anxious face very close to mine. "Just a dream."

As I glanced around the clean, sweet-smelling room, my bearings came back to me, and I remembered with a jolt where I was. When I glanced down at my body, I found grey sweatpants. My hands were clean and my hair was damp. There was no blood, and there was no Charlie…

Emmett's fierce embrace lifted me from my prone position on the pillows, and I let my sweaty, clammy forehead rest on his shoulder.

"You're shaking, Bella," he said worriedly.

I couldn't say a word in return. My voice seemed to have abandoned me; my entire focus was back in Charlie's living room.

I had _helped _him.

"Are you in pain?" asked Emmett worriedly, leaning back to take my face in his hands.

"I _helped _him!" I choked out, unable to keep this grisly secret to myself any longer.

"What?" asked Emmett, confused as I pushed him away. "It was just a dream, Bell."

"No," I choked out, wiping my clean hands on the bedspread. The blood had been washed away a long time ago, but in that moment, I could have sword they were dripping. I shook my head wildly as Emmett reached out again, his eyes bright and uncertain.

"Hey, hey, hey…" he said, frowning as I scrambled away from him. "Come here and relax."

"I _helped _him!" I cried again, my voice louder. "I didn't _mean _to!"

"Helped who?" asked Emmett gently, taking my hand in his. It was the most I'd allow him to do, though I knew he itched to hug again.

"_Him,"_ I spat, and for what had to be the hundredth time this week, I felt the bands tightening again.

"Whatever he made you do is _not_ your fault," snarled my brother, his voice gravelly with anger.

"I'm sorry."

"Ah, fuck," said Emmett, going from anger to fear in the span of a few seconds. "Carlisle!"

I wanted to protest, to insist that I was fine, but my chest tightened again and I couldn't get the words out.

A roaring in my ears dulled the sound of anxious voices.

"…in my bag, Emmett…"

"…right here…"

"…deep breaths…"

Something slipped under my tongue, and a medicinal, chemical taste overwhelmed me. I grimaced as the small tablet melted, and with it, my anxiety.

"There we go," said the voice of the kind doctor, Carlisle. "That's better, hm?"

I took a deep breath, only to be cut off when my right side flared angrily.

"Take it easy," said Carlisle gently, laying me back down on the pillows. "Just relax."

But I couldn't relax. The memory of sifting through the damp, spidery woodpile for suitable firewood made me feel sick. I remembered finding a few pieces of dry wood, bringing them in to my father, who then proceeded to burn his old, worn out boots in the living room fireplace, as my mother's body cooled. He told me to keep quiet and go along with his story when his deputies arrived, and I'd done just as I was told.

They ate up the fabricated burglary story, and when the investigators showed up, they found only Charlie's muddy footprints. When they checked them against the shoes in our house, they found no matches.

And then, the case went cold.

I'd let her killer go free.

"Hey," said Emmett again, ignoring my protests and drawing me in for another hug as tears resurfaced and I began to quiver. While I felt safer having him near, everything in me was screaming at him to let me go. To leave me to my grief. That I didn't _deserve_ his pity, nor his concern…

"Let go," I ordered feebly, forcing him to drop me like a hot coal. Fearing that he'd aggravated my rib, he held his hands up and his eyes pored over me, frowning.

"Do you need another pain pill?" he asked uncertainly, glancing at Carlisle. "Are you sore?"

I shook my head and closed my eyes, resting my forehead on my knees.

How could I tell him what I'd done? What _Charlie_ had done?

"I _helped_ him," I groaned again, needing to tell someone about my transgression. "I'm _sorry."_

"Helped who?" asked Emmett gently. "Charlie?"

The sound of his name sent a chill down my spine, but I forced myself to nod.

"Yes," I said, jerking away when Emmett went to soothe me. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," said Emmett gently, and sensing a private moment, Carlisle left the room.

We were alone now.

"It _is_ my fault," I insisted, chancing a glance up to him. "I got him the firewood."

"What?" said Emmett, plainly confused.

"They'd have caught him, otherwise," I blurted quickly. "He told me to go and get it, and so I did. I didn't even stop to _think…"_

"What are you talking about?" asked Emmett in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. "What firewood?"

"For his boots!" I wailed, the truth spilling from my lips.

"What boots?"

"So the police would think it was a robber! But it wasn't! It was _him!"_

Emmett's face froze in a mask of shock before he closed his mouth, speechless. His eyes brightened before he blinked furiously, leaning in to take my face in his hands.

"Are you trying to tell me," he began seriously, "that _Charlie_…"

"Yes," I choked. "Yes."

"God_damn_ it!" he bellowed, making me flinch away as he jumped up and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him. There was a moment of shocked silence before my eyes burned furiously, and I burst into tears.

"I'm sorry…"

"What the hell?" said another voice, opening the bedroom door. "Bella, what happened?"

Jasper's soft voice made me cry even harder, and for fear that he would leave me too, I refused to speak.

"What the hell is his problem?" asked Jasper quietly, speaking to himself as he sat himself next to me on the bed. He patted my back gently, seeming to sense my desire for solitude while at the same time refusing to leave me alone in this state.

"It was just a dream, Bella," he said gently, repeating the same words Emmett had earlier. "It's all over now…"

I couldn't bring myself to say the words I'd said to Emmett, so I kept silent.

"What happened?" he asked again, leaning in close to wrap an arm around my shoulders. "What's got Em so pissed?"

"I'm sorry," I said again, unable to tell the truth another time. "It's all my fault."

"Shh," he said quickly, resting his chin on my shoulder. "Never mind. Forget I asked. I'll talk to him about it later."

"No!" I shouted quickly, jerking up. "Don't…"

"Why not?" he asked, frowning. "What's—"

At that moment, he was cut off by Emmett storming back into the bedroom, a phone held to his ear as he raged.

"Emmett!" said Jasper, shocked, as Emmett shouted profanities and curses as whoever was on the other line. "Jesus Christ, who are you talking to?"

"I'd better not ever see his face again!" bellowed Emmett, tears seeping through his anger. "He'd better be held accountable!" His voice broke on the last word, and a bewildered Jasper snatched the phone away.

"Who is this?" he said, more calmly as he stepped back from the bed. His eyes widened and flickered to Emmett and I as the person on the other end spoke to him.

Emmett breathed heavily, fuming, as Jasper thanked the speaker and ended the call, looking forlorn.

"Bella?" he asked, his voice sad.

I didn't look up.

"Is this true?" he asked, taking a step forward. "They're saying that Charlie…"

I groaned and apologized again, shrinking away from Emmett's hand as he raised it. His anger melted and he froze, wide-eyed, as I flinched.

"Jesus, I'm not going to _hit_ you," he said. "I'd never…"

"I know… I'm sorry."

"You have _nothing_ to be sorry for," he said vehemently, placing his hand on my shoulder. "Nothing at all."

"I helped him," I repeated, confessing my gravest sin for the umpteenth time.

"You did nothing wrong," said Emmett, convinced. "You're not to blame for what he did."

Jasper kept quiet, watching the interaction between us.

"You were scared," said Emmett gently. "Afraid, and confused, and traumatized." His arms surrounded me, pulling me closer. "You're not at fault. Not now, not _ever_."

"He'll pay for what he's done, Bell," said Jasper gently, speaking up. "He won't get away with any of it."

"They can't _prove_ anything," I said miserably. "I burned the shoes."

"They weren't looking," said Emmett gently. "Why would they suspect Charlie of…" He couldn't say the words, but he didn't need to. "And now, with the evidence from you…"

"I dreamed it," I blurted suddenly, looking up at him. "Mom was calling me, and I went to her, and he was just…"

"Shh. I know," said Emmett gently, smoothing my hair. "I'm so sorry you had to see that."

"It didn't even look like a face," I confessed, sniffling hard as the memory of her mangled, bloody body came back to me. To my dismay, my words made Jasper turn away and Emmett's composure break.

"He won't hurt you again," vowed Emmett shakily. "I promise you, he'll never lay another hand on you, or anyone else."

There was a moment of silence, during which a niggling sense of safety settled over me. It was then, as a shaky calm fell over the three of us, I wondered just how Emmett planned to keep that promise.


	6. Chapter 6

"Bell?" I felt a cold hand on my forehead as the words were spoken, and I curled up tighter under the covers, trying to ignore the pain in my side, and the throbbing behind my closed eyes. That same chilled hand brushed a stray curl off of my cheek, resting there for a moment before the voice spoke again.

"Come on, Bella, wake up," said Jasper gently, his mouth close to my ear. "There's an officer here to speak with you."

The word 'officer' made my eyes fly open, my mind conjuring my father's likeness before sense took hold.

"There we go," said Jasper gently, sitting down on the edge of the mattress of this very comfortable, squishy bed in which I'd been stationed earlier that day. With a great shiver and a cautious, slow apprehension, I slowly sat up, blinking away the last remnants of sleep.

My head felt ready to burst, and my injured rib flared with every breath.

"I know you feel bad," said Jasper gently, reaching out a careful hand towards me, "but there's someone here from the police department. They need to talk to you. Are you up for it?"

_No. _"Sure." My voice was low and gravelly, and I cleared it anxiously. Jasper frowned and rested his hand on my forehead again.

"Do you feel alright?" he asked quietly, pressing his lips to my brow. I blinked furiously, to rid my eyes of tears at the unbidden memory of our mother using the same method to test whether or not we were feverish. Jasper didn't notice.

"Fine," I lied easily, knowing that there was nothing he could do to alleviate my symptoms. Aspiring medical student he might be, but even he wouldn't be able to take these feelings away.

"Come on downstairs, then," he said gently. I moved my legs to slide out of bed, taking care to find my footing. The mirror on the other end of the room glinted, urging me forward to look at myself, to criticize.

"No, never mind about that," said Jasper, steering me away from the mirror, through which I could see my straggly hair and red-rimmed eyes. "You look perfect."

_Yeah. Sure._

"Do you want someone to sit with you while you talk with the officer?" asked Jasper, urging me through the bedroom door and towards the long staircase. "Emmett, or me, or even Esme…"

"No thanks," I said quickly, shaking my head as I took the first tentative step downstairs. "I'll be fine."

"It's no trouble, Bell, really."

"I'll be fine," I insisted, taking great care not to fall or jostle myself on the stairs. Jasper rested his hand on my upper arm, ready to snatch me up if I lost my footing. Glancing up at his face, I saw his brows twitch together as he grasped my upper arm more firmly, rubbing up and down.

"You feel hot," he said quietly, stopping me mid-step to rest a hand on my forehead. "Do you feel sick?"

"No," I said quickly, dismissing the dryness in my throat and pounding in my head as byproducts of the tears from the last few days.

"When you're done talking I'll get Carlisle to take your temperature," he said, ignoring my denial. "You look flushed."

"I'm fine," I said quickly, turning from him and pulling away. I made my way down the rest of the stairs on my own, leaving Jasper to hover by the kitchen while I moved uncertainly into the sitting room. Esme turned to smile at me when I entered, handing a blue-clad police officer a tall glass of water. When I stepped through the doorway, the boy with copper hair I had only glimpsed earlier met my gaze, offering me nothing more than a quick smile before he whispered to his mother and slipped away.

"That's my son, Edward," explained Esme, watching me as my gaze trailed after the boy. "You can meet him properly in a little while."

I said nothing in return, but sat myself gingerly in the chair that Esme urged me towards.

"Do you want me to sit with you?" she asked quietly, crouching down in front of me to smooth some stray tangles of hair that had escaped my braid. "I don't mind, if you'd like me to…"

"That's ok," I said quickly. "I'll be fine."

"Just holler if you need me, then," she said, and with a gentle squeeze to my hand, she stood and faced the mysterious officer.

"Do let me know if you need anything else," she said to the man, who smiled gently and nodded, holding his silence until he was sure she had left. For a long moment, neither of us said anything, simply taking each other in.

"My name is Officer Cheney," said the man gently. "I'm with the Seattle Police Force. You can call me Ben, if you'd like."

"Bella," I said automatically, glancing away from his wide blue eyes.

"Alright Bella," he began. "I'm going to need to ask you some questions. Doctor Cullen will take a full statement from you later on and pass it on to our office, but in the meantime, there are some questions we need answered."

"Okay." My voice was small and squeaky, and I curled in on my chair, ignoring the flaring pain in my rib.

"Let's get started, then."

ooOoo

"Thank you so much for your time," said Ben gently, shaking my hand quickly before turning to Doctor Cullen. "We'll be in touch soon with all the appropriate paperwork."

"Thank you," he said quickly, also reaching out to shake the officer's hand. "You have my fax number?"

"Absolutely," said Ben, turning to exchange goodbye pleasantries with Esme. Esme shook his hand and spoke mindless reassurances for my safety and wellbeing as I rested my head on my knees, taking deep breaths to stave off the panic and embarrassment flooding through me. Like Doctor Cromwell, Ben had asked all kinds of questions about Charlie's deviant ways. Ben took diligent notes. Ben asked follow up questions.

Emmett poked his head into the living room just in time to see Officer Ben exit the house. As the sound of the police cruiser started up outside, Emmett crossed the room in four big strides, crouching down in front of me and prying my hands away from my face.

"You okay?" he asked gently, holding my wrists so I couldn't hide from him.

"Fine," I said forcefully, pulling away. "I just hate the questions."

He didn't say anything in return, merely glancing down at me with gentle, surveying eyes.

"Did he say what they're going to charge him with?" asked Emmett.

"No."

"Damn."

"Bella?" Carlisle's voice rang out from the doorway, and when Emmett and I glanced over, I saw the black medical bag hanging from his hand.

"Jasper says you might have a fever," he said gently. "Mind if I check?"

"Are you sick, sweetheart?" demanded Esme quickly, rushing past her husband and moving my brother out of the way. I frowned as the back of her hand, cool and soft, felt my forehead and cheeks, her face falling as she took me in.

"She's flushed and her eyes are glassy, Carlisle, look…" she said, fussing as Carlisle came over and opened the bag.

"We'll sort it out, Esme," he soothed. "Open up for me." He slipped a digital thermometer under my tongue and urged his wife to stand back, lest she overcrowd me. Esme backed up only reluctantly, moving only a few steps away.

"Fever," said Carlisle brusquely as the instrument beeped, and he took it from me. "Look up?" I tilted my head up to the ceiling and felt the Doctor's warm, gentle hands probing my neck for swollen glands.

"Are you feeling sick?" he asked. "Cough? Chest pain?"

"Just the rib," I said quickly, feeling my face heat up with all the attention focused on me.

"Headache? Stomach pain?"

"A bit of a headache," I admitted, seeing Emmett's frown.

"So a lot of one, then," he deadpanned. "She's always been one to downplay."

I scowled, but said nothing.

"I'll get you some Tylenol," said Carlisle gently. "And rest. I think you've overworked yourself."

"I'm fine." I insisted, moving to stand. "Please don't fuss."

"You'll take your Tylenol and have a rest," said Carlisle firmly. "Doctor's orders."

I couldn't help but smile as he grinned, winking.

"Your brothers will settle you in, I'm sure."

"Jasper!" called Emmett, his loud voice echoing through the house. Jasper took less than ten seconds to find his way over, eyes raking over each of us in turn.

"What's wrong?"

"Boo's sick," said Emmett briskly. "Carlisle says Tylenol and sleep."

"Right then," said Jasper, stepping forward to take my hand. "Come on, Bella."

"I'm fine," I insisted again, embarrassment welling in me at the thought of being waited on. "I don't need anything, really…"

"Stop arguing and let's go," said Jasper firmly. "You heard Carlisle. Rest and Tylenol."

"I'll bring some up in a few minutes," said Carlisle, repressing a smile with difficulty. "You boys take good care of her."

I had no doubt at all that both of my brothers would take his words closely to heart as they marched me towards the staircase, where Alice and Rosalie were just descending. Alice smiled widely when she saw me, and pressed a firm kiss to my cheek before offering Jasper the same treatment. Rosalie merely smiled, giving Emmett a pointed look that I couldn't interpret. Emmett grimaced back at her, and I frowned, looking askance at my brother.

"Never mind, Bell," he said hastily, ushering me away from Rosalie. Rosalie quickly wiped any concerned look from her face and smiled sweetly again, offering me a small wave as the boys urged me upstairs before I could ask any questions.

"What was that about?" I asked, turning to Emmett as we entered the room I'd been settled in before.

"She's just worried about you, that's all," he said quickly. "Rose is…"

He paused for a moment, lips pursed.

"Is what?" I asked.

"Let's just say she understands more than you think," he said, speaking in a strangely deliberate way.

"What?"

"Never mind, Bell," he said softly. "Get into bed, and I'll let her tell you all about it when you're better."

"I'm fine," I insisted again, resisting only slightly as I was urged down onto the soft sheets. "Really…"

"Relax, and let us help," said Emmett firmly, taking the sheets and drawing them up to my chin. "It's the least we can do."

"What?" I asked, confused as Jasper looked away, his hand wiping suspiciously at his cheek.

"I'll be back in a minute," he said quickly, and rushed out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. Both Emmett and I stared after him, me confused, and Emmett concerned.

"He'll be alright," said Emmett gently, almost to himself, before he turned to me, sighing.

"What's wrong?" I asked, concern blooming in my chest as I sat up, ignoring Emmett's worried frown.

"Sit back and calm down," he ordered, sitting on the edge of my bed. He tried to urge me back, hand on my shoulder, but I shook him off, looking quickly towards the door.

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine, Bella," said Emmett. "He's just upset."

"Why?" The word fell from my lips before I had the chance to catch myself, and Emmett froze, staring at me with mingled sadness and disbelief.

"Are you serious?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. "Bella, my god…"

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he snapped, angry. "For God's sake, Bella, look at you. Why do you think he's upset?"

I said nothing, turning my eyes instead to the golden bedspread, tracing the loops of thread with my fingertip. There was a long silence between us and I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze until he heaved a great, shuddering sigh and shifted away from me. I looked up and saw his shoulders slump, as if he were deflating, and watched with wide eyes as he ran his palms roughly over his eyes.

"Are you crying?" I asked, aghast. He didn't answer right away, taking a deep breath instead, running his hands through his hair. The curls stood on end as his large fist fell to the bed, and when he turned to me, I was dismayed to see his face downcast and glistening with tears.

"He feels responsible," said Emmett in a growl, reaching over to pull me into a hug. "We should have noticed. We should have said something… There were definitely signs."

"I didn't want you to know. Not ever."

"That doesn't matter," he said gruffly. "You're just a kid. You're our responsibility, and we failed you."

"No you didn't…"

"Yes, we did," said Emmett firmly, twisting my long braid around his hand. "We did."

"Em…"

"You were never the same as he was, you know," said Emmett, cutting me off. "When Jasper was born, I was just a baby. We were always so close in age, it was like we were twins. I never felt like a big brother to him. We're only ten months apart."

"I know," I said, frowning. "But…"

"But we were older when you came. You were different."

I kept quiet, resting my forehead on his shoulder as he ran a hand down my back.

"Did you know he used to call you his baby?" asked Emmett. "Everywhere we went with you, that's what he'd tell people. 'That's my baby!' or 'Look at my baby!' He'd tote you around like a little doll."

"I know," I said thickly. Mom had told me that story so many times over the years, sometimes to remind me of how much my brother loved me when I was angry with him.

"You were always special to us… we should've seen what he was doing. I'm so sorry, Bell," Emmett sighed, resting his cheek on top of my head. We sat quietly in the bed together for a long moment, neither of us speaking, neither of us knowing what to say. I felt his tears on my shoulder as he ran his big hand up and down my back, and I fought back my own tears, not wanting to make him feel worse.

"I'm sorry," I said finally, wishing more than anything that Emmett- big, strong, unmovable Emmett- would stop crying.

"I love you." His voice cracked.

"Love you too," I said, my voice muffled by his shoulder. "Please don't cry."

He simply cleared his throat and sat up carefully, gently pushing me back against the pile of soft pillows. I pulled the covers up higher, watching apprehensively as he stood and stretched, leaning over to kiss my cheek.

"Love you. I'll be back in a minute."

"Okay."

"Don't fall asleep yet," he warned. "Jasper will want to see you, okay?"

"Okay."

With only the slightest awkward pause in the doorway, Emmett departed, only stopping once to glance back into the bedroom. I lay there, in the silence of this unfamiliar room, burrowing under the covers to keep the chill away. The burning behind my eyes and lump in my throat were testament to how much I wanted to break down, but knowing that Jasper, who already felt so guilty, would be here soon, I forced myself to keep calm.

A gentle knock on the door roused me from my internal musings, and I turned to face the doorway.

The boy was taller up close than he was from far away, and with him so still, I could see that a smattering of freckles was sprinkled over his pale nose and cheeks. His hair looked like it had never seen a comb, standing up every which way, but even as unkempt as it was, it didn't detract from his obvious good looks.

"I'm Edward," he said quietly, taking a tentative step in the room. He lingered by the doorway, a tray in his hands, watching me with wide, green eyes. He looked rather nervous.

"Hi," I squeaked, pulling the covers up even higher. "Bella."

"Yeah," he said, smiling gently. "I've heard."

"Right," I said, glancing away. "What's that?"

"Oh!" he said, looking down to the tray he was holding. "Dad sent me up with it."

"Okay."

"Tylenol, Gravol, water, some crackers and lozenges," he said, stepping carefully forward to place the tray on the nightstand nearest him. He settled it carefully on the stand, taking care to make sure I wouldn't hit it from the bed and knock it over before he stepped back, standing awkwardly between the bed and door.

"Oh," I said quickly, my mouth going dry. "I could have come and grabbed it."

"No, no," he said, shaking his head. "It's no trouble. I figured I should introduce myself, anyways, if we're staying in the same house."

"Okay."

"So… yeah," he said, chuckling as he ran a hand through his already messy hair. "I'll just leave you to it, then. Dad says to take two Tylenol right away, and a Gravol if you feel sick. He also says to drink all the water before you fall asleep. Something about fevers and dehydration… I don't know." He laughed again, shaking his head.

"I will," I said, watching as he glanced up, his green eyes bright against his pale face.

"Do you need anything?" he asked quickly. "I mean, can I get you anything?"

"No thanks," I squeaked.

"Right," he said, nodding. "I'll leave you be, then."

"Okay."

"Okay…" He hovered for a moment before he turned to go, and I felt my face flush.

"Thank you!" I blurted out, making him turn back around.

"Oh, don't worry about it. No problem. I'll see you around, I guess… when you're feeling better."

"Okay."

"Okay."

The awkwardness was almost palpable as he moved through the doorway, closing the door behind him with a gentle _click._ When I could no longer hear his footsteps outside the door, I sank beneath the covers with a groan, shaking my head.

Were there any words, besides "okay", that I knew how to use?

"Bella?" The door cracked open once again, and this time, my red-eyed brother inched into the room, looking downcast.

"Jasper."

"Sorry for running off like that," he said, his voice hoarse. "I just…"

"It's okay," I said quickly, reaching out a hand. "I'm sorry."

"Stop saying sorry," he admonished, perching himself on the edge of the bed. Reflexively, I almost said it again, but I caught myself at the last minute and remained silent.

"Carlisle brought your tray?" asked Jasper, examining the shiny silver tea tray.

"Edward did," I said, testing the name for the first time.

"Good, good…" said Jasper absently, opening the Tylenol bottle and shaking out two white pills. "He's a nice kid."

"Mhm."

"Here," he offered, handing me the medication as he cracked open the water bottle, condensation running down the sides. Doing as I was told, I popped the sour tasting pills into my mouth and swallowed them with a big gulp of water. My rib smarted as I took a deep breath and I grimaced, rinsing my mouth out with another drink of water.

"Need Gravol?" he asked, shaking the little bubble pack of pink pills at me. "Feeling nauseated?"

"No," I said, speaking the truth. The longer I sat here, cozy and clean in this big bed, the closer sleep came.

"Then rest," said Jasper, reaching over to take the bottle from me as I slipped further down onto my pillows, eyes heavy and sore.

"Love you," I said quietly, as Jasper leaned down to pull the covers up.

"You know I love you too," he said. "Sleep now. Just call for someone if you need anything. Anyone. Everyone's home."

"Thanks."

"Sleep well, Bella," he said, pressing a kiss to the same cheek Emmett had. "Sorry for running off."

My eyes drifted closed before I could reassure him, and I heard his gentle chuckle as he rose from the bed, and left me to my slumber.


	7. Chapter 7

"Hey, can you hear me?"

"Bella?"

"She's really warm… where's Carlisle?"

The muffled, thick sounds of worried voices only just permeated the thick fog of sleep clouding my mind as I lay still, every fiber of my being focused on staving off the ache of sickness. Laying in the strange, comfortable bed, I felt my body come alive, fleeing the bonds of slumber as I escaped the realm of dreams. Slowly, bit by bit, my senses returned to me. I felt the warm, cocooning sheets wrapped around my legs, and the chilly air on my face and arms. I smelled the sweet, slightly floral scent that permeated the room, and the distinct, earthy cologne to which Emmett was so partial. My eyes, while still closed, became aware of the colourful blooms behind my eyelids, blues melting into reds, reds to greens and greens to purples. I tasted the remnants of medicine from earlier in the day, and though something in me registered the unpalatable bitterness, I was in no state to take action.

"Wake up, Bell." Jasper's voice was slightly muffled, but loud in its proximity. A hand reached out and stroked my clammy forehead, and while I knew the hand should be warm, it felt strangely cold and intrusive in my half-awake state. Blinking slowly to acclimate to the light of the bedside lamp, I jerked away from Jasper's steady, soothing hand and pressed my cheek onto the cold pillow beside me. My entire chest flared with pain as I twisted round, and a loud, unpleasant cough burst from me as my eyes snapped open. I tried to catch my breath.

"Hey, hey, hey…" said Jasper's now-worried voice as he reached over and pulled me back, settling me gently on some pillows he had propped up. "Deep breaths." The coughing lasted a few moments longer, and once it eased up I sat hunched over, my forehead resting on my knees.

"That doesn't sound good," said Emmett's voice, speaking suddenly from the corner of the room. I started and glanced up, seeing his hulking figure huddled away in the shadows, a dark mask of concern on his face.

"You're really warm, Bella," said Jasper gently, pressing his hand to my forehead once again. "And you're coughing."

I sighed and swallowed thickly, feeling the unpleasant burning pain in my throat and chest.

"See if Carlisle's still up," said Jasper, turning to our brother. "I'm sure her fever's worse."

"Sure," said Emmett, stepping forward and skirting around the end of the large bed. His brows were knit together, a concerned crease marring the otherwise smooth forehead. He glanced back only for a moment as his feet crossed the threshold of the door, and in that momentary gaze I saw his worry and upset reflecting back at me.

"I'm fine," I said automatically, my throat flaring as I used my voice for the first time since waking.

"No, you're not," said Emmett, and much to my concern, he no longer sounded angry. Instead, he sounded soft and tired, as if all of the stress of the past few days had worn him down. That sound of defeat- that gentle, unassuming protest to what would have usually incited anger and affront, made my heart clench and my stomach roll.

Before I could say anything in return, Emmett left the room and closed the door behind him, his quickened footsteps echoing down the hall.

"Carlisle will know what to do," said Jasper gently, fussing over the sheets that were tangled around my legs. "He'll make you feel better."

"Did I upset Emmett?" I asked worriedly, my voice coming out in a harsh rasp.

"No, Bella," said Jasper. "Emmett's just overwhelmed. I think we all are."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," said Jasper, and to my dismay, he sounded just as detached as Emmett. "None of this is your fault."

I stayed quiet as I blinked back my tears, wishing more than anything that we could go back to the way things were before all of this- before I had opened by big mouth and blabbed, and before my brothers were ruminating over their own misplaced guilt. In that moment, lying on a bed that was not mine, in a family home that was not my own, I felt the depth of my own intrusiveness, the knowledge that I did not belong. A home like this was no place for someone like me—someone with nothing to offer, and who took way more than she could ever give back.

Jasper pressed a kiss to my cheek and snapped me out of my thoughts, just as Emmett's footsteps returned in the hallway, and the door creaked open. This time, however, Carlisle's tall form came into the room as well, silhouetted against the light from the hallway. He moved quickly into the room, urging Jasper away so he could take the most convenient spot beside my bed.

"Open up for me," he said gently, brandishing his thermometer. Knowing that protest would get me nowhere I did as I was told, and let the kind doctor slip the metal probe under my tongue. Gentle hands coaxed my arm from under the covers where I had slipped it in search of warmth, and I felt his steady fingers grip my wrist, timing my pulse.

By the time he released me and the thermometer had beeped, he was coaxing me to sit up as he produced a stethoscope from a medical bag.

"You've got a fever, and your pulse is quick," he said gently. "Deep breath for me?"

The coolness of the stethoscope made me flinch back but Carlisle did not relent as he held it in place, and I did my best to breathe deeply without coughing.

I did not succeed.

"Again."

I coughed again, and he laid me gently on the propped up pillows.

"It sounds to me as if you've got an infection," he said gently, peeling back the heavy comforter on the bed. I shivered fiercely as my last refuge of warmth was taken away, and huddled up even more tightly in the sheet he had left in place.

"I know you're cold, dear, but try to keep the comforter off," he said. "I don't want your temperature rising any more than it already has. You're relatively healthy, so I don't think there will be any other complications, but if you get too warm, you'll have to go into the hospital. I'm going to swab your throat and look for anything else it might be, but some antibiotics, bed rest, and plenty of fluids should sort you right out."

I simply laid in my bed, staring up at him, feeling more miserable by the minute. There was no way I could just lie in this bed, doing nothing to contribute… doing nothing to show my thanks for their kindness.

"If your fever increases, or you have any trouble breathing, tell me immediately," said Carlisle, placing a water bottle on the bedside table as he rummaged in his bag. "I've got a few doses of antibiotics in here, but I'll write you a script and have someone pick it up tomorrow."

He placed a bottle of large pills on the table as well, and cracked open the water bottle.

"Take two now, and another two every six hours," he said. "I'm sure someone can set an alarm so you remember to take them."

Emmett immediately snatched his cell phone from his pocket and began swiping through it to find what we needed.

"I'll let Esme know what's going on in the morning," said Carlisle. "She'll be more than willing to make sure you've got everything you need."

"I can…" My sentence was cut off by a sharp, painful cough that made Emmett shift uneasily.

"You can rest in bed until you feel better," said Carlisle gently. "Don't worry about anything else, alright?"

"But…"

"Trust me," said Carlisle gently, smoothing the sheet down as he spoke. "Esme won't mind one bit. You need antibiotics, rest and fluids. The rest we can sort out later."

"The rest?" repeated Jasper quickly, eyes snapping up to meet Carlisle's. I laid back down in bed, closing my eyes.

"There are still questions that need answering," said Carlisle gently. "A social worker was set to come by tomorrow afternoon to sort out temporary custody, but as it stands, I think I'll call her and reschedule. Since Bella is sixteen, she could legally apply for emancipation, but…"

His next words were drowned out as my throat flared once more and another vicious, hacking cough forced me to sit up- carefully, lest I strain my rib.

"…with us," finished Carlisle, mild concern entering his voice as he reached out a hand to steady me. "Lying flat will make it worse, I'm afraid, so perhaps you might feel better if you use some more cushions to hold you up."

Jasper rose to the occasion before I could even move, and when he was finished, I was nearly upright.

"Let her be for now," said Carlisle, gently coaxing Jasper away as he went to fix the already smooth sheets on the mattress next to me. "Nothing to do but wait it out, I'm afraid."

"Do you need anything?" asked Jasper gently, clenching his hands into fists in what I knew was a feeble attempt to keep his hands away from my blankets. "Anything to eat? Some more water?"

"No thanks," I said, whispering to keep my throat from protesting too much.

"You know how to use Emmett's phone?" he asked, picking up the small black tablet from the bedside table. I nodded.

"Text me if you need anything. Don't shout, okay?"

"Yeah."

"I love you," he said, gently peeling himself away from the bedside, where I knew he wanted to be. Jasper was a natural caretaker—always one to look after everyone else, even at the expense of himself, if the situation warranted it.

"Love you."

"Come on, Jas," said Emmett gently, jerking his head towards the door. "Let her sleep."

"Text me, Bella," said Jasper firmly, pointing to the phone. "I mean it."

"I will."

"Someone will come and check up on you in a little while," said Emmett gently, stepping aside to let Carlisle pass through. "Try to sleep through until morning, okay? Maybe that will help."

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, the hands indicating 1:30 A.M.

My eyes were heavy.

"I will," I promised, reaching over to turn the knob on the lamp. My head thanked me as the harsh, white light disappeared and was replaced with steady darkness, with only a chink of light from hallway streaming through the open door, and the blue-filtered light of the moon from the gap in the curtains.

"Feel better, Boo," said Emmett gently, just as Jasper slipped past him and made his way slowly down the hallway, leaving our brother in the doorway.

"I will. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he said, and closed the door behind him.

Left alone in the bedroom, I sat back on my pillows and closed my eyes, my thoughts rushing to and fro as I lingered on the events of late. My tired brain, try as it might, could not make sense of the sequence of events that had led me to where I was now. How could it be that only last week I was alone in my predicament, with only my abuser knowing the full extent of my misery? What had happened? How had that part of myself- that quiet, meek, unassuming part of me- changed so drastically? Where had all that inner strength- the strength to speak up and take back control, come from? Had it always been a part of me, or had it grown from the sense of opportunity that underscored my anxiety at my brothers' arrival?

My mind raced, and try as I might, my overactive mind would not succumb to my bodily exhaustion, and I was left in a state of in-between. While my body screamed and protested, demanding that I give in and sleep, my mind refused to settle down. If it did not focus on the events of the past few days, it pointed out my sickness. If it did not focus on sickness, it reminded me of my anxiety, about how inadequate and burdensome I felt in this big house with these kind people. It reminded me of how embarrassing my dialogue with the handsome Edward had been, and how he must think me defective, unintelligent, a complete and total freak… Oh, how my ribs were aching, my head throbbing. What must my brothers think of me…

_The sky glowed the bright blue of a clear, cloudless day- a rippling azure that came with burgeoning summer. I could feel the soft grass on my legs, bare and warm in the yellow sunshine. I felt the warmth on my upturned cheek; I sensed the gentle breeze that brought with it whiffs of wildflowers and freshly cut grass. My hair blew gently, curling tendrils tickling my neck as I smiled to myself, brushing my hand up to move it away._

"_Bella!" My head snapped to the side, seeking the newcomer. The white façade of our home was topsy-turvy from my prone position on the ground. Her voice was happy._

"_Bella! Dinner!"_

…

"_I'm so sorry, Bella."_

"_Such a tragedy."_

"_So young…"_

"_So beautiful…"_

_I barely heard the words being said to me, the empty condolences of those who did not know, of those who could _never_ know… Guilt burned though me; the acrid pang of knowledge kept me in my seat, hunched over, refusing to look up and see her smiling. I refused to see her likeness there, a two dimensional representation tucked away behind a pane of glass…_

_Jasper's arms wrapped around me and I started, my vision suddenly clouded by the grey of his sweater. Her casket, the wooden tomb that I had forced her into, was blocked by a tuft of blonde hair and a stubbly, splotchy, tearstained cheek. Jasper slid in next to me on the church pew, not saying a word and yet conveying so much as he gripped me, running a tense hand up and down my back._

"_It'll be done soon," he said finally, as I pressed my face greedily into his shoulder. I did not want to look… I didn't want to _see…

"_Do you want to go up?"_

_My whole body shook and I felt the familiar grip of panic taking over. I wouldn't. I didn't want to. I couldn't see…_

"_Hey, hey, you're okay," said Jasper, worried as he held me even more tightly. He helped me up from the pew and steered me away, leading me down to the church basement just as the breathlessness took over and my vision began to fade…_

…

_His hand was on my face. I could feel the tears, thick and hot, falling down my face as he moved above me, his weight pressing down and forcing air from my lungs. He smelled of sweat and cologne, of mint and gunpowder._

"_I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry…"_

_I squeezed my eyes tight and jerked my face away from his hand, pressing it instead into the pillow…_

Something cold slipped under my legs.

"_I love you."_

Hands gripped my arms.

_His head collapsed on my shoulder, his breath heaving…_

My hair was damp.

"_Good girl…"_

"Wake up, Bella."

_The world went dark…_

"She's much too hot."

"What do you need me to do, Carlisle?"

"Go and pull the car around."

"Shouldn't we call an ambulance?"

"The car, Esme, please…"

"What's wrong with her?" Emmett's voice sounded tinny.

"I'm not sure," said Carlisle, his voice slipping into muffled garble. The urge to fall back into sleep, into sweet, sweet darkness tugged at me, urging me forth, but a real, almost tangible fear of dreams urged resistance. I felt an insistent hand on my cheek, rubbing back and forth as my eyes shifted behind their lids, and burst of icy cold spread across my head.

"That's it," said Carlisle, as my eyes snapped open and I blinked furiously. My head was pounding it its skull, hot needles poked at my throat and my chest felt as if it were being crushed.

"Your fever spiked," said Carlisle gently, resting me against the wall of the bathroom- someone must have carried me inside.

"You're wet… I had to cool you off," he continued, using a fluffy towel to gently pat down the dripping ends of my hair. "I'm going to drive you to the hospital, so they can take a better look at you there."

"What…?" I just could not fight off the cough as I slumped back against the wall, strength eluding me. Someone had placed an ice pack under my legs as well, and I jerked away when I felt cold condensation seep through my pants.

"Can you stand?" asked Carlisle, offering me his hands to help me up. I stood on shaking legs on the cold tiles, resisting the urge to fall back down as my head spun and my stomach clenched. Emmett, who I had just barely noticed, also reached out to steady me, and I felt my face flame.

"I'm fine," I insisted, turning away from my brother to cough into my hand.

"You're not fine," said Carlisle easily, letting Emmett lead me outside the room. I shivered, cold air rushing over my wet head. "I think your infection might have become pneumonia. A chest x-ray is in order."

"Charlie can't afford that," I said automatically, my mind moving immediately to a hypothetical scene involving me, Charlie, and a hefty medical bill.

"Don't worry about that," said Carlisle, trying to placate me. "Let me worry about all of that, and you just worry about feeling better."

"But…"

"Bella, stop," said Emmett, and I was both pleased and slightly ashamed to hear a note of anger returning to his voice. "You're injured, have a raging fever, are coughing up a lung and might have pneumonia. You're going to get checked out and you're not going to complain about money. Got it?"

"But…"

"Stop it," he said firmly, stopping us partway down the stairs to wheel around and face me. "Enough worrying, please…"

The icy hard stubbornness in his eyes shifted only for a moment, but that brief moment belied his concern and upset. Neither of us spoke for a long moment before he sighed and stepped aside, letting me continue on my way.

"They'll take an x-ray to make sure everything is in order, and as long as your breathing isn't compromised, I see no reason why they shouldn't write you a stronger prescription and let you come right back home," said Carlisle.

"When you come back," said Emmett, smiling weakly, "I'll let you hang in my room and we can watch the game."

"Oh yay," I deadpanned, and Emmett let out a genuine laugh before he ruffled my already tangled hair, and opened the door.

"Jasper won't be happy," said Emmett, grimacing as he looked at the clock. It read 6:45. "But I'll tell him where you are if he wakes up." I grimaced.

"We'll be quick, I'm sure," said Carlisle, checking his watch. "She'll take precedent over any sniffles or colds."

"Love you," said Emmett gently, stepping back to let Esme, still clad in her dressing gown, come back inside, handing Carlisle the keys to his Mercedes.

"Feel better, sweetheart," she said, pressing a kiss to my forehead that made my face flame red. "I'll make some light soup for when you come home, okay?"

For the second time that morning, my stomach did a strange little flip at the sound of the word "home".

"Thanks Esme."

Carlisle ushered me through the door, and into the backseat of his car.

ooOoo

Three hours later, I was back at the Cullen home, snug and warm next to Emmett, while Jasper lounged in a chair off to the side. Emmett, reclined on a mountain of pillows, munched lazily on a handful of peanuts while Jasper, pointedly ignoring the loud chewing, stared diligently at the screen, where a new player was coming up to bat.

I shifted carefully against Emmett's side, conscious of the long tube running from the needle in my hand to the bag of antibiotics and saline on the tall, shiny pole.

"Your arm is cold," remarked Emmett, glancing down between us at my arm, wedged between the mattress and his side.

"It's the saline," said Jasper, turning to face us as the batter struck out. "It helps with the fever, too. You feeling okay?"

"Not too bad," I said quietly, snuggling deeper into the bed. "I feel a bit better."

"Good," said Jasper, stretching his arms up over his head. "Carlisle said your fever was really high earlier."

"Mhm."

Emmett said nothing, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. Jasper had been rightly upset when he'd woken up and I was gone, especially knowing that Emmett hadn't roused him.

"Good. With any luck, you might be ready to go back to school in a week or two," said Jasper, eying the calendar on the wall. Schools weren't in right now, on account of spring break, but for both the boys and myself, the vacation was ending far too quickly.

"In Forks?" I asked, refusing to meet Emmett's eye when he scowled and sat up a little straighter, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't think so," said Jasper gently, sitting back in the recliner. "I'm sure social services will work something out."

I didn't reply, and let that information sink in.

"Hello?" Esme's soft voice emanated from the hallway, her gentle knock sounding on the bedroom door. "Can I come in?"

"Sure, Esme," said Emmett easily, glancing over as Esme stepped inside, a tray of food in her hands.

"Now, this is for your sister," she said sternly, shooting a pointed glance in Emmett's direction. Even though he smiled knowingly at her, he did sit back a little, and avert his eyes from the steaming bowl of soup that so obviously enticed him.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart? Is the medication helping?"

"Yeah, thanks," I said, doing my best to clear my throat and sound even slightly normal. "Thanks for everything."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, waving me off. "I've brought you some soup, and a few crackers, if you feel up to eating. Carlisle also sends some Tylenol, for your headache, and a bottle of water in case you feel thirsty."

"Thanks."

"You're also supposed to take your temperature before you eat," she said, pulling a thermometer from her pocket. "If you eat before, it might not give a correct reading."

Dutifully and without complaint, I placed the probe under my tongue and waited for it to finish.

"100.9," said Esme, taking it from me when it beeped. "Still high, but not nearly as bad as before."

"That's good, Bell," said Jasper, smiling as Esme took it away and placed the tray over my lap. "Much better than before."

"Yeah." Esme beamed and my face flushed.

"Eat up, sweetheart, and I'll be back in a little while for the dishes."

"Thanks again," I said, my voice raspy and hoarse once more.

"Not a problem, dear." She fussed over the blankets. "Oh! I almost forgot! Rosalie and Alice were asking after you, and were wondering if you'd be up for a visit later today."

"Oh! Um…" I hesitated, chancing a glance at Jasper, who looked blankly back at me.

"If you're not up to it, that's perfectly fine," said Esme in a rush, looking slightly worried. "They'll understand, I promise…"

"No, that's okay," I said, shaking my head. "They can come in."

"Oh, wonderful," said Esme, smiling once more. "After your dinner, then."

"Sure."

"Call me if you need anything. Or send one of these two." She jerked her head at my brothers.

"Thanks."

"Eat up, sweetheart."

I spooned a hot mouthful of broth into my mouth in response, and with a small smile she left the room, closing the door behind her.

"She's a good woman," said Emmett suddenly, his eyes glued to the closed door.

"That she is," said Jasper, turning his attention back to the game on the television.

I simply finished my soup and snuggled back down under the covers, wondering what on earth Alice and Rosalie could want with me, of all people.


	8. Chapter 8

There was a short knock on the door and I sat up a little straighter, glancing anxiously at Jasper as he stood and opened it.

"Alice," he said gently, stepping aside to let her in. Alice danced in, a broad smile on her kind face, and sat gingerly on the end of the bed with her hand on my foot.

"Rose and I want to know if you'd like some girl time," she said gently. "These boys are wonderful and all, but they're _men."_

I chuckled quietly, resisting the urge to cough.

"We could do our nails," suggested Alice. "Or maybe watch some movies that these guys hate."

Emmett wrinkled his nose and Jasper laughed.

I didn't know what to say.

"Do you want to?" asked Jasper gently. "Their rooms are just across the hall."

"Um…"

"It'll be fun," said Alice, smiling eagerly. "I promise. We don't bite."

Alice's open, eager face made me hesitate, fighting against my instinct to shy away. I knew, if only for my brothers' sake, that I should try to get acquainted with these girls. Alice and Rosalie had been nothing but kind to me, and I knew that if the boys liked them, they must be good people. They had also, however, seen me at my very worst, and the thought of facing the two of them alone made my face flame red. What must they think of me?

Glancing up at Alice, I saw her face fall a little before she sighed, nodding.

"It's alright," she said. "We just thought we'd offer."

"No," I said quickly. "I mean, sure. Yeah."

"Oh good!" said Alice, with a breath of relief. "You had me worried for a minute." I fidgeted.

"Well, wander over whenever you're up to it. We're just hanging out for now."

"This will be done in about ten minutes," said Jasper, gesturing to the bag of saline hanging from the IV pole. "Carlisle should be by to disconnect you soon."

"After that, then," agreed Alice easily, hopping up from the bedside. "What colour do you like best?"

"Blue?" I said, the word coming out like a question.

"Excellent," she said, and loped gracefully out of the room. The door clicked behind her.

"You'll have fun," said Emmett, spotting my unease as it settled over me. "Both of them are really eager to get to know you."

"Why?" I blurted, and Emmett scowled.

"Because they've heard all about you," he said, rolling his eyes. "And you've Skyped…"

"Only once," I protested, frowning up at him. About a year and a half ago, Emmett had abandoned the computer for an urgent phone call, dragging his girlfriend to sit in his place. Rosalie had looked just as uncomfortable as I had, and we had done little more than make awkward small talk until he had come back. She had disappeared soon after, and I hadn't seen or heard from her again until a few days ago.

"You'll have fun," said Emmett again, ignoring my comment. "They love doing nails and all that."

"I don't," I grumbled, and he snickered.

"Better you than me."

"What's that mean?" I demanded worriedly, and he pointedly avoided my eye.

"They got him in his sleep," crowed Jasper, earning him a frown.

"Got him?" I asked, confused.

"Our dear big brother went out to a party on the night before a big test," said Jasper with an air of maddening superiority that only a flawlessly studious person could take on. "He passed out drunk in his bed, and Rose was so pissed that he blew off their study session that she and Alice painted him all pretty in his sleep."

"I had to go to my midterm with pink fingernails," sighed Emmett finally, reaching over to smack Jasper on the shoulder. I choked back a laugh.

"He would've had a full face of makeup, too, if he hadn't looked in the mirror."

"A good brother would've warned me," said Emmett, sounding slightly bitter.

"Nah," said Jasper lazily, grinning over at him. "You earned it."

Emmett stared even more fixedly at the screen as he fired back.

For the next ten minutes, I listened to the sibling banter I had been missing for so long. Since the two of them had moved away from home, I had forgotten how they used to bicker back and forth and tease each other. As a small child I had hated listening to the two of them fight, but as I listened to them now, it felt like a big piece of my life was clicking back into place.

The boys were back.

Emmett snarked at Jasper, and Jasper, good natured as he always was, laughed easily back at him. My ribs pained me as I laughed in response, unable to hold back my amusement, but it felt so good to smile that I didn't try and stop it.

"Oh you did so!" laughed Jasper, deeply amused by Emmett's indignant face.

"What_ever_," said Emmett, his voice a growl. "You know if it had been you, you would've…"

Jasper's laughter cut him off and I rested my head on Emmett's arm. His eyes softened at once when he glanced down at me, lips twitching as he and Jasper shared a significant look.

The spell was broken by a gentle knock on the door as Carlisle stepped inside.

"You've finished," he said gently, eying the empty bowl on tray Esme had brought up earlier. "Are you still hungry? I can get you some more."

"No thanks," I said quickly, forcing my anxiety down as Jasper shifted out of the way to let Carlisle through.

"Let's check you over," said Carlisle gently, reaching out and taking my hand. He had hands like most doctors did- cold and steady.

"Looks perfect," he said with a genuine smile. "It's not hurting you, is it?"

"No."

"Good," he said, reaching up and unhooking the bag of saline from the pole. "This looks like it's all done."

"Good," I said, and he grinned again.

"I'll have to hook you back up tonight," he warned. "So you'll have to be careful while you're sleeping."

"Okay," I said, and as if in response, my ribs flared.

"I'll take the tray down with me," said Carlisle, finally, standing from the edge of the bed.

Emmett took the glass of water from the tray before passed the dirty dishes to Carlisle, looking longingly at the empty bowl.

"There's more in the kitchen," laughed Carlisle, shaking his head. "You boys, I swear…"

"What?" asked Emmett, indignant.

"The three of you eat more food than is humanly possible, that's what," retorted Carlisle. "You're lucky we've got so much fridge space. The girls aren't half so bad."

"We're growing boys, doc," said Emmett, laughing him off. As Carlisle left the room, Emmett passed me the glass of water and insisted that I drink it. The water was warm now that it had been sitting out for so long, but I didn't let it bother me as I took a careful sip.

"Esme's an awesome cook," said Emmett suddenly, his mind still on the food. "She cooks all kinds of awesome stuff." Jasper nodded his assent.

"She could open a restaurant," said Jasper easily. "She's got a knack it."

"Does she always cook for you?" I asked, glancing up.

"We're supposed to be on our own for breakfast and lunch, but Esme's always cooking," said Jasper. "This place comes with room and board, so she makes supper every night."

"We'd probably starve otherwise," said Emmett mildly, glancing away from the baseball on TV.

"Good luck," I snorted, and he smirked.

"Knock, knock!" Alice's cheerful voice filtered through the closed door before she cracked it open, popping her head through. "All done?"

Jasper squeezed my shoulder as I nodded and carefully scooted down to the end of the bed.

"Excellent," said Alice. "We're all set up."

"Set up?" I asked, apprehensive as I stood.

"We've got all the stuff ready for nails and movies," she clarified, taking my non-needled hand in her own. Emmett laughed.

"Good luck, kiddo," he said, winking as I looked over in alarm. Jasper punched him on the arm.

"Don't be rude," said Alice, admonishing, leaving Emmett smirking. "We'll have heaps of fun."

"Heaps of fun," agreed Emmett, though in a very sarcastic voice. "Just take it easy on her, Alice. She's sick and injured."

"You are such a jerk," said Alice crossly, frowning as she wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "Come on, Bella. Some girl time away from your boar of a brother will do you some good."

I couldn't help but smile.

"See you later, Jazz," said Alice, in a much friendlier tone than she'd used with Emmett. She shut the door behind us.

"Have fun!" shouted Emmett, and a peal of raucous laughter followed. I couldn't help the thrill of anxiety at the sound, wondering what my brother knew that I didn't. Emmett wouldn't knowingly send me into the wolf's den, would he?

"Honestly, you'd think we were going to torture you," said Alice mildly, shaking her head. "With the way he talks…"

"Yeah." My throat grew dry.

"It'll be fun, for real," said Alice, and I stared intently at her smiling face.

She seemed just as eager and happy even without Jasper around.

"Rose is waiting," she said finally, jerking her head in the direction of the open bedroom a few feet down the hall. "We're hanging in her room this time. Mine's a mess."

"Okay."

"Rose?" said Alice, peeking her head around the corner. The room was just as elegant as you'd expect for someone like Rosalie, who looked like she didn't have an ugly bone in her body. A stately bed was centered against the back wall, which also contained a beveled, arched window. On the left-hand wall was a set of large French doors which led to a small balcony with two small chairs that looked perfect for early morning books and coffee. The doors were open just then, sending a gentle breeze through the room. Rosalie herself was poised on a stool in front of a vanity table, setting out bottles of nail polish.

"Oh good," she said, and while my instinct was to shy away, she smiled with nothing but kindness. "I'm glad you decided to come."

"Thanks for inviting me," I said, and her smile widened.

"Of course," she said. "Sit down. Wherever you want. The bean bag chair is pretty awesome."

The purple plush bean bag looked fine to me, and I gently settled myself down in it.

"Shut the door, Alice, will you?" she asked, jerking her chin at the open bedroom door. "I don't want Emmett sneaking over to make sure we're playing nice."

My brows twitched together.

"Oh don't worry," laughed Rosalie, glancing amusedly down at me. "We _will_ play nice, but that doesn't mean I want him bumbling in here. If he pisses me off again, I'll have to paint something other than his fingernails."

Alice's laughter was infectious. Rosalie reached over and grabbed a handful of nail polish bottles, holding them out to me.

"Now, Alice tells me you like blue."

* * *

Alice clutched my hand tightly in her own, her eyes streaming with tears as we sat huddled together on Rosalie's big bed. The TV flashed before us, Alice sniffling loudly as she used up Rosalie's stock of tissues.

_Titanic_ had never made me cry, but seeing Alice's usually-happy face so distraught made me want to tear up.

"Oh get ahold of yourself," laughed Rose, unsympathetic to the core. "I mean, come _on."_

"He _died_ for her!" said Alice, scandalized.

"He died because she wouldn't let him on the door," said Rose, scathing. "Why you insist on this movie, I'll never know."

"Shut up," said Alice, though with a hint of laughter in her voice. "What do you think, Bella? Beautifully tragic romance, or sentimental nonsense?"

I froze, glancing between the two.

"Well, it's _sad_," I said carefully, and Alice smiled gloatingly. "But," her face fell, "I've never cried over it."

"Cop out," laughed Rosalie, squeezing my shoulders to lighten her sting. This afternoon, I had learned a lot about Rosalie's sharp tongue.

"Well, I think it's beautiful," sniffed Alice, her eyes watering once more as the credits began to roll.

"Ugh," Rose flopped back onto her pillows with a great sigh.

"Well, what would you have watched?" demanded Alice, eyebrow raised. "_Die Hard? The Fast and the Furious?"_

"Maybe," said Rose slyly, winking at me. "Anything but that romantic garbage."

Alice just rolled her eyes.

"You're weird," she complained. "All girls like _Titanic."_

"I'm not_ all girls,"_ snarked Rose, resting on her side to look over me to Alice, eyebrow cocked.

"No, you're definitely not," said Alice, and before a real argument could break out both of them dissolved into peals of laughter.

"Bella?" Jasper's gentle voice rang through the bedroom door, and he knocked lightly.

"Go away!" shouted Rose, and Alice laughed again. "We're having very intense girl time!"

"Yeah," said Jasper, sounding awkward, "but Carlisle needs to set up the medication again."

"Oh, open the door then," said Rose with a long suffering sigh. "I suppose that's a good enough reason." I blushed, embarrassed, but Rose would have none of it, poking me admonishingly in the shoulder.

"Stop that," she said, and I just smiled shyly. Jasper poked his head around the door, peeking inside.

"All decent?" he joked, and Rose raised an eyebrow.

"That's your girlfriend and your sister, weirdo," he said. "Of course we're decent."

"Yeah, yeah," said Jasper, stepping fully inside. Alice and Rosalie laughed and my face burned brighter than ever when Jasper stepped aside and let Carlisle in after him, who looked very amused.

"Evening, ladies," he said gently. "Ready for me, Bella?"

"Yeah," I said, switching places with Alice to let her take the middle. Rosalie watched with avid interest as Carlisle wheeled the IV pole beside the bed and hung a full bag of saline on it, gently taking my hand to reattach the tubes.

"Everything should go smoothly," he said. "Just remember not to pull."

"Okay."

"And just wheel it with you when you leave. Other than that, have a nice night. If you get hungry, I'm sure one of the girls will help you down the stairs."

"Thanks."

"Have a good sleep, Bella."

"You too." He smiled gently at Alice and Rose as well, who bid him an eager farewell.

"If you need me, just come on over," said Jasper gently, hovering for only a moment in the doorway before he shut it behind him, leaving the three of us alone in the room once more.

"Does it feel weird?" asked Rose, leaning over to examine my hand.

"No," I said honestly. "Just a little cold." Her nose wrinkled, and she tossed me a knitted blanket.

"Don't freeze," she advised sagely, and I couldn't help but laugh.

I had laughed an awful lot today, despite the circumstances. It felt nice.

"Well girls," said Alice finally, checking her phone for the time. "It's half past ten and I've got to be up early."

"Sure, sure," said Rose easily, bidding Alice farewell. "Let me know how it goes tomorrow."

Alice had told me earlier that she was meeting with her professor in the morning to discuss her final paper.

"Definitely," said Alice, smiling. "Have a good night, you two."

"Goodnight," I said automatically, glancing over at Rosalie. She yawned, but waved lazily at Alice as she stood and left the room, stopping for a moment in the doorway.

"What?" asked Rose, frowning.

"Just… don't push it, okay?" said Alice, who looked pointedly at me. I glanced between the two of them anxiously.

"I've got it, Alice," said Rose with a sigh. Alice smiled briefly and nodded, gently excusing herself once again.

The door closed behind her, and I glanced furtively at Rose.

"Do you want me to go?" I asked quietly, making her frown.

"No," she said quickly, reaching out her hand. "No, stay for a bit."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Because if I'm bugging you…"

"No, you're not," said Rose, shaking her head. "I promise you're not."

"But Alice said…"

"Yeah, I know," said Rose with a sigh. "She's just worried."

"About what?" I asked, and Rose hesitated.

"Listen," she said. "I've wanted to talk to you for a while now, but I didn't know how to bring it up."

"Bring what up?" I said, butterflies erupting in my stomach.

"Lay down," said Rose, offering me another fluffy pillow. She seemed to have an endless supply. "Do you want a drink or anything? I'm going to get some soda before I start."

"Um…"

"Never mind," she said gently, smiling. "Emmett says you like Sprite. I'll grab you one."

"Thanks," I said, blinking in surprise at her recollection of this minor detail.

"Be right back."

By the time Rose slipped back in with drinks in hand, my stomach had moved from butterflies to outright nausea. What could she possibly have to say to me that required such privacy that not even _Alice_ could hear? Was she angry with me for monopolizing my brother? Would she have him choose between us? Maybe she was-

"Relax," she said gently, cracking open my soda can. "You look like I'm about to attack."

"Sorry," I said, taking a drink to collect my thoughts. "I'm just…" There was a moment of silence.

"Yeah, I know," she sighed.

We were silent for a long moment.

"Did you have a good time today?" she asked gently, scooting closer to me.

"Yeah, thanks," I said. "It was fun."

"Good, good…"

"Do you… hang out with Alice a lot?" I asked, fishing for something to say.

"Sometimes."

"Oh."

Silence once again.

"Well, I think I'm tired," I lied quickly, finishing my Sprite as quickly as I could. "I should probably leave you be."

"No, wait," said Rose, rubbing hard at her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm screwing this up."

"What?"

"I want to talk to you," she said gently, rolling over to face me. Her eyes, which had been so surveying and aloof all day, were now liquid and anxious as she reached out and took my hand, much like Alice had during the movie.

"Lay down, and I'll tell you a story," she said, and I did as I was told. Rose laid back on her pillows too and stared up at the ceiling, leaving me to do the same. Although I did not want to look at her when she was so obviously avoiding my eye, neither one of us felt the need to relinquish the other's hand. She squeezed mine before she began.

"How much has Emmett told you about me?" she asked finally.

"Not much," I said quickly, wracking my brain to remember what I'd been told. "You're from the southwest."

"New Mexico," she confirmed, nodding slightly. "Anything else?"

"Your parents aren't around?" I said, hedging.

"Correct."

"You're really pretty?" I offered, blushing and smiling at the same time. She laughed and glanced over.

"Well thanks," she said, and I chuckled.

"That's all he told me," I admitted. She sniffed.

"Did he ever tell you about Royce?'

"No," I said, trying to remember. "Who's Royce?"

"My ex-boyfriend," said Rose gently. "He was…"

I waited patiently, glancing over when she spoke. She was still staring at the ceiling.

"Not so nice," she finished, meeting my eye briefly.

"Oh."

"I don't want to upset you," said Rose finally, "but I want you to know that out of anyone else here, I'm the one with the most insight on what you're feeling."

I felt the familiar wave of anxiety welling up inside me at her words, and without reason, I felt my eyes burn with tears.

"I mean, I'm not saying I know _exactly,"_ she backtracked. "My dad isn't a great person, but he's decent. I just know what it's like to be subjected to... well... you know."

I _did_ know, so I nodded quickly, and to my dismay, a big, fat tear fell down the side of my face. I wiped it quickly before it could mark her pillows.

It didn't escape her notice.

"I'm going to hug you," she told me quietly, and before I could react either way, I felt her arms snake around me. Her hug was strong—stronger than I'd expected—but very much different from either of my brothers. For a brief moment, I was reminded of my mother, and it was that link that made my body relax into her as I tried not to lose control of myself.

"Want a tissue?" she asked, reaching behind me to take the box Alice had desiccated. I pulled one gently out and dabbed my face, determined not to be a snivelling mess.

"It's okay to let it out, you know," she said gently, drawing me into a sitting position so she could take a good look at me. In that moment, I saw what my brother might have seen in her, besides her obvious good looks. Rose might be harsh, sarcastic, and opinionated, but this side of her, the side that _cared_, was worth every bit of her attitude. I bit my lip to keep myself in check, and she just pulled me closer.

"I'm sorry if I've upset you," she said gently, and I shook my head, resting my chin on her shoulder. "I just want you to know that if you ever need to talk to someone who isn't Carlisle or your brothers, I'm always here."

The dam broke, and for the first time since arriving in this strange house, I let myself fall apart.

"That's what I thought," said Rose gently, rubbing her hand down my back. She moved us closer to the edge of the bed—or the IV pole—as I leaned in closer to her, straining the tubing. She said nothing for a long moment, but let me rest on her shoulder.

"You need a good cry," she said gently, speaking over the noise I was making. "Everyone does now and again. And you've got a damn good reason to so don't even think of going all red and quiet on me when you're through."

A mad desire to laugh intruded on my weeping, so I was able to quiet down and wipe my face.

"Sorry."

"Don't," said Rose seriously, sitting back against her pillows and giving me some space. "Don't ever be sorry for what he did."

I simply stared at her, her blue eyes piercing and sharp.

"Lay down and get some rest," she said finally, reaching down to pull down the blankets. "You're welcome to sleep in here if you want to. I know how much it sucks to be all alone in a strange bed."

Tiredness was overtaking me, and I didn't have the will or gumption to argue. I took her up on her offer, and slid myself carefully under the covers of the bed, letting her draw them up over us. We were both silent for a moment as Rosalie turned off the television, and put the box of tissues back on the bedside table. When she was done, she laid on her side next to me, resting her head on her hands.

"He really does love you, you know," she said suddenly. My eyes, which had drifted closed, snapped back open inquisitively. They felt scratchy and sore.

"Emmett," she clarified, seeing my confusion. "He really does care deeply for you."

"Yeah," I said, feeling my face flush again. "I love him too."

She smiled.

"He talks about you _all_ the time," she said. "Non stop. Every time you do something good, you know this whole house hears about it."

I flushed and groaned, hiding my face as a mental image of Emmett parading my test scores around these college-educated strangers flooded my brain. And Emmett could be so _loud..._

"Don't be embarrassed," she laughed in a whisper. "It's cute to see him so proud."

I grinned awkwardly.

"Am I bothering you?" asked Rose suddenly, looking apprehensive. "Alice always tells me I talk too much at night, and I can stop if I try…"

"No, it's okay," I said quickly. "I don't mind."

"Good," she said with a grin. "I mean…"

Her last statement was interrupted by the noisy rumble of a vehicle from outside her open French doors rolling down the gravel drive.

"Who the hell is coming down here this late at night?" she demanded, more irritated than angry. I watched her roll over with an angry huff before she pulled herself out of bed, marching to her balcony.

"What the hell…" I watched, mildly confused as Rose's expression shifted from annoyed to confused, then to white-faced fear. A car door slammed shut and I heard loud thumping footsteps, and a pounding of a fist on the front door.

"Send me my daughter, right now, or so help me God I'll come in there and get her myself!"


	9. Chapter 9

In the moments after that voice rang out, you could have heard a pin drop in the room. Rosalie stared wide eyed and open mouthed at the ground below her balcony, like a fish out of water. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, the rhythmic pounding of blood threatening to overtake me.

The silence only lasted a moment.

From outside the bedroom door came a clamor of curses, shouting, and banging as almost every door on the landing flew open. Rosalie's door didn't stay shut long as Emmett, red-faced and irate, came storming in, scanning the room.

"Come with me," he said urgently, crossing the floor in four great strides. He took hold of the IV pole, rolling it forward. "Bella, let's go."

"How did he get here?" I asked, not meaning to sound as frightened as I did. Emmett glanced down sympathetically, shaking his head.

"No idea."

"Stay upstairs, all of you," said Carlisle, emerging on the stairs from the upper floor as he tied a bathrobe over his pyjamas. "I don't know what's going on, but I plan to find out."

"He can't be here," I said in a gasp, knowing very well that I was close to my breaking point. "He can't be…"

"I know," said Jasper gently, a deep frown on his face as he crept over. "It'll be okay, Bella."

I couldn't reply, but listened carefully to the noise downstairs.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," came Carlisle's cold, stern voice. "You have no business here."

"The hell I don't!" came Charlie's angry, booming voice. "That's my kid, and I want her back."

"Step away from my house," said Carlisle.

"Give me my daughter."

"Your _daughter_," Carlisle hissed the word, "is asleep upstairs. Safe."

"Do I look like I care if she's _sleeping?"_ said Charlie mockingly. "Send her down here right now, or I'll go and get her myself."

"This isn't your jurisdiction," laughed Carlisle. "You have no power here."

"Try me," came Charlie's dark reply. I felt my knees shake.

"I don't want to go with him," I said desperately, clinging to Emmett's hand. He shook his head, saying nothing as we continued to listen.

"You have no business here. My wife and I are being granted temporary custody in the morning, and your daughter needs rest."

"Ah, but it's not morning, is it?" asked Charlie mockingly, and I could almost see the defiant smirk on his face. "You've got no leg to stand on. I made bail this morning, and I have every right to see my kid. Innocent until proven guilty, right?"

"Get off of my porch," snapped Carlisle. "Esme, call the police!"

Esme's scampering feet could be heard on the floor below, frantically searching for the phone.

"Isabella!" shouted Charlie, and I flinched back. "Isabella!" Emmett, losing his temper, ushered me over to Jasper and stormed down the stairs.

"Get out of here!" he roared, and I felt hot tears stream down my face. Carlisle's voice, pleading with Emmett to be reasonable, could barely be heard over the din.

"Get her back in my room," said Rosalie, appearing behind us. Jasper jumped in surprise at the proximity of her voice, but ushered me along anyways.

"Sit down, Bella," he said quickly, urging me onto a stool. "Just try and relax."

He seemed to notice that I was panicking.

"You won't have to go with him," said Jasper quietly, kneeling down to my level. "Carlisle won't let him in the house..."

"Isabella!" The shouting was louder now, and I clamped my eyes shut.

"Yes, he's come inside," came Esme's frantic voice from the floor below. "We've asked him to leave. His daughter…"

Both Jasper and I wheeled around to the doorway, me in total shock and him in horror.

"Isabella!" His voice was coming from the upper hallway now.

"Be quiet," hissed Rose, rushing over to flick the bedroom lock. Both Jasper and I cringed at the noise it made and Rose stopped dead, listening with wide eyes. Maybe he hadn't heard it...

Booming footsteps stormed over, as if in defiance of my hopes, and the doorknob shook.

"Open this door, Bella," said Charlie's dark voice. "Come on, now. You know you can't fool me."

"Fuck off!" shouted Rose, flushing, and I looked up in horror. "This isn't Bella's room, it's mine."

"Ah, the lovely Rosalie," said Charlie in his most charming voice. "Open this door."

"You leave those girls alone!" came Esme's voice, and Charlie laughed.

"I'm not after anyone but my kid," said Charlie easily. "Isabella!"

The doorknob rattled again, and three booming knocks sounded out.

"The police are on their way!" shouted Esme. "Rosalie, do not open that door!"

"Gladly, Esme," said Rose easily, standing with her arms crossed and hip cocked. How she could be so confident in the face of Charlie was beyond me. Charlie kicked the door and she didn't even flinch.

"I've got proof of custody!" shouted Charlie, sounding enraged. "Right here! See?"

"Null and void come morning," said Carlisle vehemently. "Leave that girl alone."

Charlie responded with another kick to the door, followed by more pounding. The door shook ominously. My white-knuckled grip on Jasper's arm tightened, but if it was hurting him, he didn't say anything.

"Here," whispered Jasper gently, reaching over and disconnecting the IV tubing from my hand. "Just in case…"

"In case?" I said, my voice carrying. "In case of what, Jasper?"

"Easy, Bella," he said, trying his best to keep me silent. "Try to be quiet..."

"Isabella!" Charlie's roar was louder than ever, and I cringed back, shaking my head. He kicked the door again.

"Get away from that door!" shouted Carlisle, sounding just as close as Charlie. "Don't you dare— argh!"

It sounded as if Charlie had struck out at Carlisle, and he had definitely hit his mark. I stifled a cry, and Jasper leapt up.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said darkly, moving towards the door. To my horror, he flicked the lock and swung it open, coming face-to-face with our angry father. Carlisle, holding his bleeding nose, moved quickly towards us, but was too slow— before he could reach us, Charlie had shoved Jasper aside and stepped through the door. His dark, gleaming eyes fell on me.

"Get over here _right_ _now,"_ he snarled, and my whole body froze as he reached down to grip my wrist. "What lies have you been telling about me, huh?"

"Nothing," I said honestly. "I didn't lie."

"Get in the car," he snarled, marching me bodily through the door. Looking up I could see the dark bruise on his jaw from where Emmett had struck him earlier in the week. Charlie's grip on me was firm and unforgiving, and even if I had tried to escape him, it would have been futile.

Emmett's shouting grew louder and louder as he gripped my other arm, careful of the needle in my hand, pulling me back.

"Let her go, dad," he said, and his voice, while angry, had lost most of its volume. "I swear to god, if you hurt her…"

Charlie kept quiet, swatting Emmett away. Emmett tried instead to pry Charlie's fingers off of my arm, but could not get his grip to budge.

"I swear to god…" said Emmett again, this time with more volume. As Charlie pulled open the Cullen's front door, my wits returned to me and I grabbed at my brother, holding on to his shirt.

"Don't make me go," I pleaded, ignoring Charlie as he tugged my arm again. "I can't go back."

"Let that child go at once!" said Carlisle, anger seeping into every word. He was down the stairs like a shot. "Esme, how long?"

"Five minutes," said Esme desperately, clutching the phone to her ear. "They're coming as fast as they can."

Charlie pushed me forwards out of the front door and tore me away from Emmett as Jasper came spilling into the foyer. Carlisle was the one who rushed past Emmett, wearing a look of intense anger that did not at all suit him.

"Bella, do not get in that car," he said firmly, marching after us through the damp, dewy grass. Charlie began to pull me even faster towards his waiting vehicle, ignoring my protests.

"Let me go!" I shouted, wiggling frantically to escape his grip. Like the night when I'd yelled too loudly, he grunted and tried to force me to go where he wanted me, but I resisted.

The faint sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance.

"Get in that car!" barked Charlie angrily, and by this time, everyone was outside. My hands hit the back door of the car, and I pushed back against him as he scrabbled around me, trying to get the door open. Emmett came running out onto the lawn, shouting angrily, but I could not make out his words as I focused all my energy on fighting back. Nothing registered in my mind but trying to keep myself out of this car at all costs.

I would not let him take me. Not again.

Carlisle was shouting, Esme was crying, Jasper was running out of the door to join our brother, Rosalie was staring out from her balcony on the second floor…

The car door opened, and I struggled even harder against Charlie's pushing hands.

The grass was wet under my feet.

The car was cold and dirty.

Charlie's angry curses were mute to my ears, which were filled instead with the rhythmic pounding of blood that always accompanied my panic.

Carlisle, nose still bleeding, was beside us now, trying his best to make Charlie unhand me. Both shouted at each other, Charlie's free hand shoving Carlisle back as he opened the car door.

I could barely hear my own cries over the sound of the pounding in my ears, and only when I felt my head hit the top of the car door did I falter. The resounding _crack_ made even Carlisle jump, reaching out for my hand, and that was the last thing I saw before a rush of blood flooded down my face. The whole of my head felt like it had been split open, and I wondered for a brief moment whether I was going to be sick. In my moment of weakness, Charlie's hands shoved me hard on the back, and I fell face first into the backseat. The cruiser smelled like alcohol and sweat—the scent of the numerous criminals who had been transported back here. I couldn't focus on the raucous noise outside.

My head was spinning. I could barely hear the sounds of shouting and even louder sirens over the pounding in my ears. I turned my head slowly and caught a brief sight of Carlisle pounding his fist on the window in front of me, and saw Charlie reach the other side of the car, pushing him roughly away...

A flash of brown hair that I immediately associated with Emmett flashed in the windshield, and I heard a muffled bang. The car shook.

I closed my eyes, trying with all my might to keep myself in the present. My head was killing me. My face was sticky.

The sirens were right next to us now.

"Bella!" A wash of cold air flooded over me and I felt wind on my back. I shifted uncomfortably and tried to raise my head, immediately falling back down when the dizziness set in.

"Can we get the doctor over here?" called an unfamiliar voice, and my eyes snapped open again. A young, blue-uniformed police officer was crouching next to me, looking anxious and uncomfortable.

"I don't wanna go," I said, and the man's brow furrowed. My voice sounded slurred and stunted, and he reached down to brush my hair out of my eyes.

"You're safe now, sweetheart," he said gently, and my brain worked hard to process what he was trying to say. The man frowned intently at me, glancing over his shoulder. I couldn't make out his words.

"Let me through," came Carlisle's voice. I blinked hard as he helped me turn over, laying me flat on my back across the back seat of the car. "Can you hear me, Bella?"

"Mhm." I could barely think over this headache.

"That's a nasty cut," said Carlisle gently, speaking over his shoulder. "Can one of you boys get an ambulance up here?"

"Sure thing."

"Carlisle, what's going on?"

"Is she okay?"

"Esme, bring me a towel please." Carlisle's voice was growing muffled, and I closed my eyes.

"Don't," he warned, rubbing his knuckles painfully over my chest. It made me groan. "Wake up, Bella."

I forced my eyes open.

"You've hit your head pretty hard," he said gently. "We're going to take you down to the emergency room to get it checked out, but you can't sleep. Not yet."

"I don't want to…" My tongue felt puffy and thick.

"Hush now," said Carlisle, resting his hand on my forehead. I forced my eyes to focus on him.

"Charlie…"

"The officers have him under control," said Carlisle gently. "I promise he can't hurt you now."

"Where is he?" I demanded, my fear spiking again. My chest tightened. "Where did he go?"

"Just relax," said Carlisle forcing me to lie back as I struggled to sit up. "You're safe, I promise."

Jasper came forward, white-faced and holding an armful of towels. He passed one to Carlisle and stared disconcertingly at me, his lips pursed into a hard line.

"I'm fine," I said reflexively. His eyes narrowed and his shoulders slumped before he blinked hard, keeping himself under control.

"You will be," I heard him say, and he turned away to let someone else through

I couldn't help but cry out as Carlisle pressed firmly on the top of my head, soaking the towel with blood. The pressure sent me reeling, and I couldn't fight the urge to be sick. My eyes closed again, and despite Carlisle's frantic hands rubbing painfully down the center my chest, I could not force them open.

It felt good to sleep.

* * *

When I came to, I was laying in a hospital gown on a gurney in a strange emergency room, the low sound of beeping filling my ears. My senses seemed to come back to me one by one—first sound, then smell, then sight. My ears registered the beeping, then the sound of low, hushed conversation. The scent of rubbing alcohol came next, and I wrinkled my nose in protest. This sent a flare of pain up through my scalp, and I groaned. There was excited shuffling next to me.

"Bella?" Emmett's voice, usually so noisy and boisterous, seemed subdued and uneasy.

"Hm…" I groaned, cracking my eyes open. The bright lights from the hospital fluorescents assaulted me and I had no choice but to snap them shut.

"Easy," said Emmett gently, and I felt his hand on my forehead. "You're alright, Bell. Just take it easy for a minute."

I tried again, this time prepared for the brightness, and squinted up at him.

"Where…?"

"The University Hospital," said Emmett quickly. "You're in the ER. Your head is stitched, and you just got back from a CT scan."

"Oh," I said, clearing my throat. My arm was connected to a new IV.

"For the pain," said Emmett gently, looking like he could use some pain relief himself. "You hit your head really hard."

"Charlie?" I gasped suddenly, struggling against the hand he used to hold me back.

"Hey, hey, hey…" he said quickly, looking frightened. "Take it easy. You're safe, and he's back in a cell."

"What…?" I began, trying to blink my confusion away. "Where…?"

"The police took him in for assault," said Emmett quietly. "He clocked Carlisle in the face and knocked you out cold. He won't make bail again, since he's proven violent."

"Where is he?" I asked stupidly, looking around once more.

Part of me expected him to come back through the door.

"He's in jail," repeated Emmett slowly, a worried frown on his face. "Are you alright, Bella?"

"Yeah…" I said slowly, shaking my head softly. That action was a huge mistake, as I felt the pain and pressure surge back all at once.

"I'm going to be sick," I warned, and Emmett was quick enough to snatch the trash can from the corner.

"Just take it easy," he said again, rubbing my back carefully. I knew this was not where he wanted to be—Emmett hated hospitals—but he never said one word about it.

"I want to go," I said thickly, trying to sit up. "Can I go?"

"Not quite yet," said Emmett gently. "You're still waiting to be released."

"I want to go," I said again, and to my dismay, my eyes flooded with tears.

"Ah, don't cry," said Emmett sadly. "Come on, Boo, relax."

"I want to go," I said again, embarrassed but unable to stop the flood of tears. "Please, let me go."

"I'll find a nurse," he vowed softly, hesitating only for a minute before he stood up and walked to the door of the room, glancing in both directions.

It was Carlisle, his nose bruised and swollen, who came inside, not a nurse.

"You're just waiting on some test results," said Carlisle softly, perching on the edge of my bed. "You hit your head very hard, and they're concerned about bleeding."

I sniffled loudly, and he offered me a tissue.

"We've got the temporary custody papers," said Carlisle softly, glancing at Emmett. "Social Services was called as soon as you were bussed in, so you'll be coming back home with us."

I didn't say anything, wondering what would happen now.

"Esme and I are more than willing to house you and feed you until everything is sorted out. You could apply for emancipation if you'd like, or not…"

I nodded briefly, collecting my wits.

"Thanks," I said. "I'll be sure not to be a nuisance."

"You're more than welcome. You won't be a bit of a bother, I promise you," he said, his eyes twinkling. Emmett laughed softly.

"You've never been a nuisance in all your life," he said, standing quickly when my other brother poked his head in.

"Your scans are back," he said softly, and from the look on the face of the nurse that followed him in, I got the impression that he'd been badgering them until they got it done. Jasper stood a little back from the bed, which was strange for him, but the nurse spoke before I could question him.

"Yes," said the nurse briskly, shooting Jasper an annoyed glance as she wheeled a backlit screen to the bedside. "Here we are."

She put the images up, and Carlisle nodded in understanding.

"No bleeding yet," she said softly. "We'd like to keep you under observation overnight as there is a minor skull fracture…"

"I want to go," I said, speaking up before anyone else could.

"You'd need to be well looked after," she said, eyebrows raised at Carlisle.

"You know she will be, Monica," said Carlisle gently. "I know the drill. I am a doctor, you know."

"Well, you've got some injuries that need looking after yourself, doc," said the nurse concernedly, glancing at Carlisle's bruised nose. "Are you sure you want to take her home just now?"

"If she's stable and she wants to go, I don't see why not," he said quickly. "We'll wake her every hour to make sure she's not suffering any complications, and at the slightest sign of deterioration, she'll be back in."

"Well…" said the nurse. "You'll have to talk to Doctor Gerandy so he can sign the discharge papers."

"We'll do that, thanks Monica," said Carlisle gently, standing up. "I'll go and find him right now," he said, talking to me.

"Okay." My tears would not stop.

"Are you in pain?" he asked gently, reaching out to press a hand to my brow. I shrugged him off, trying to get a hold of my emotions.

"I'm okay," I said softly, and Emmett snorted.

"Bullshit."

Carlisle just sighed.

Doctor Gerandy was easily located in his office, and after some stern words with Carlisle, my discharge papers were signed. As Carlisle was a physician, Gerandy felt comfortable releasing me into his care, even if he would have preferred me to remain overnight.

"Any sign of change, in _anything,_ you bring her straight back. The fracture is mild, but if it's aggravated, it could still put pressure on her brain…"

"I'll take good care of her," promised Carlisle, offering me a smile. "Esme's already got everything under control at home."

"Just see that you do," said Doctor Gerandy sternly, looking long and hard at Carlisle.

"I promise."

* * *

When I got settled back in bed at the Cullen house, Rosalie was the first one through the door.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," she gasped, taking in the unsightly bandage strapped to the top of my head. "I cannot even _believe_ what happened…"

"I'm okay," I said gently, closing my eyes for a brief moment. "Really, Rose…"

"Oh bull_shit_," she intoned, sounding much like Emmett. "You are so not okay, so don't play it off like you are. You tell me everything you need right now, and I'll make sure you get it." I started at her vehemency.

"I'm fine for now," I squeaked, speaking the truth this time. "Really, I am." Her face was skeptical.

"Okay," she conceded after a long, scrutinizing moment. "But just call out if you need anything. I mean it. Don't sit and wait, and Carlisle says that under no circumstances are you to be out of bed."

"Okay."

"I'll send Esme in, then," she said gently, and I nodded.

"Thanks."

"Esme!" called Rose, opening the door and stepping aside to let Esme through. Her eyes, still rimmed red from crying, flooded with tears once more when she looked at me.

"Oh sweetheart," she said, setting a little pile down on the bed. "I'm so sorry."

I didn't say anything, simply nodding as she cleared her throat and took a knitted throw from the top of the pile.

"I thought you might be chilly," she explained gently, spreading it over the bed, "so I brought you this. It's very cozy."

"Thanks."

"And some pyjamas," she added, gesturing to the soft pink material.

She helped me slip into them before she tucked me back in, her hands fluttering anxiously as she looked for something else to fuss over.

"Try and get some rest," she said finally, taking a step back. "Someone will be in to wake you in a little while, to make sure you're not…"

She looked frightened.

"I'll be okay, Esme," I said, feeling bound to reassure this kind woman. "I promise."

"I know, sweetheart," she said gently. "Everything will be well. You'll see."

When she left the room, closing the door behind her, I felt the familiar tug of exhaustion pulling at me. I didn't want to sleep, fearful of whatever dreams might haunt me, but the more I fought against it, the more I was forced to give in. My eyes drifted closed, and for the briefest, most wonderful of seconds, all seemed well. Sleep, despite my dream fears, seemed a beautiful refuge from the chaos that had invaded my life. _Yes, _I decided,_ sleep was wonderful._

Little did I know how dangerous that sleep really was.


	10. Chapter 10

An astute observer in the Cullen residence in the early hours of the morning would have been privy to the frenetic scene that played out in the smallest bedroom of the family home. It was there, tucked up in a cozy, soft bed, that a bedraggled girl lay still and limp, unmoving and unknowing in the dark recesses of her mind. A blond man stood over her, urgently checking her pulse and lifting her eyelids. Two other men, much younger than the first, stood next to her bed, the largest fidgeting and the youngest staring.

"Someone please call 911," said the doctor calmly, taking a penlight out of his pocket, shining it anxiously on her to check pupil reflexes. Jasper, breaking eye contact with his sister, leapt from his spot and darted from the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

"What's going on?" asked a tousle-haired boy peeking into the room. "Dad, what's wrong?"

"Go back to bed, Edward," said Carlisle sternly, but the boy did not move.

"Is she okay?" he asked, his fear causing his voice to break. "Is she sick, dad?"

"She's unconscious," said Carlisle with a frown, and Emmett, still fidgeting, wheeled around.

"Is she gonna be okay?" he demanded, white-faced. "Is she…"

"We'll know more when we get to the hospital," said Carlisle, his face grim. Although neither of the younger men knew it, Carlisle's medical experience told him more than he needed to know about this kind of situation. This was exactly what Doctor Gerandy had been afraid of when he'd discharged her earlier that evening. There had been no significant swelling then, no bleeding on her brain…

What this meant for her, Carlisle could only guess. Before Edward could make another sound, Jasper pushed him aside and careened back into the room, holding out the phone to Carlisle.

"Here," he said, breathless. "You're the doctor, take it."

"Yes," said Carlisle, drawing up to his full height and taking the phone. "No, she's non-responsive."

Setting the phone between his shoulder and ear, Carlisle took the girl's hand in his own. Emmett gasped, outraged, as he took the girl's finger and pressed down on her nail with the side of his pen with what should have been excruciating force. His sister did not even flinch.

"No pain response," said Carlisle, his brow furrowed. By this time, the activity had roused his wife as well, and she tip-toed in.

"Carlisle, what's wrong?"

Carlisle merely shook his head and listened closely to the dispatcher, letting Emmett fill her in. Emmett's stunted words made just enough sense for Esme's eyes to bulge and for her hand to clap over her mouth.

"Someone go and wait outside to show them in," said Carlisle gently, allowing Esme to take up the task. He knew she would not cope well in the sick room—she never did—but he also knew that there was no way she could remain uninvolved. His wife had been extremely worried about the girl from the moment she had pulled up in their driveway, and Carlisle knew only too well the toll these past few days had taken on her.

Esme had never been good with sadness.

"Bella, come on," said Jasper gently, leaning in over the bed. "Wake up."

The girl did not stir.

"Is she breathing?" demanded Carlisle suddenly, watching the unnatural, ashy paleness creeping over her face very quickly. Jasper rested his head carefully on her chest, listening intently, relieved to hear the quick inhales and exhales.

"Yes," he growled anxiously, and Emmett visibly relaxed.

"But not well," said Carlisle gently, pressing his hand to her chest. Both Emmett and Jasper knew he was itching to take up his stethoscope and perform a more thorough investigation, but his supplies were out in the trunk of his car, and he could not leave her now.

"She was fine an hour ago," protested Emmett suddenly, drawing himself up to full height. "I woke her myself." He began to pace.

"I know," soothed Carlisle quietly, urging the man to keep calm. "These things aren't always predictable. As far as I know, we've caught it quickly. If we hadn't been so diligent, she might have been far worse by morning."

"She seemed alright," said Emmett, bewildered. "I mean, she cried, but who wouldn't after being woken up three times in three hours? Wasn't that something the other doctor said to look out for? Crying?" Emmett's voice grew louder and more upset.

"You had no way of knowing," said Carlisle gently, and Jasper gripped his brother's shoulder. "We'll get this sorted out," he promised.

Emmett fell silent.

For the next few minutes, no one spoke. The dim bulb in the bedside lamp set the room aglow with buttery light, but not even the brightest of lights would have roused Bella just then. She lay perfectly still, completely unconcerned with her brothers' worry or the doctor's troubled countenance. Though Jasper could not know it, she was not immersed in feverish dreams as he feared she was. Nothing in her head reminded her of her wretched father or of her wonderful, beautiful mother who had been so cruelly snatched away. Before, when Bella dreamed, she had often conjured up either terrible nightmares or dreams so unbearably nostalgic that they twisted the dagger in her heart. She relived Charlie's violence, and sunbathed with her mother on the shores of the Pacific. She felt Charlie's hot, sweaty hands roaming freely over her body, and she watched her mother at the bathroom mirror, painting her face with makeup.

"_Some day, you'll be old enough to wear some too!" _Renee would say. _"When you're bigger, we'll have such fun dressing up…"_

But none of this was true just now. Now, Bella lay blissfully unaware of both pain and pleasure, unable to perceive the world around her. For now, she existed only in her own mind, in some dark recess that not even she cared to reach. She could not see the rush of paramedics flooding into the room, or feel the oxygen mask they strapped on her face. She did not feel any rush of movement as she was expertly transferred from the cozy, warm bed to the wheeled stretcher. She could not feel the cold night air nipping at her exposed flesh before they got the gurney into the ambulance, and she could not hear the worried talk around her as she was driven off into the night.

In the hospital, before her family could arrive, Bella was poked, prodded, and examined within an inch of her life. New medications were sent through her IV cannula, and the bandage was unceremoniously removed from the top of her head. Doctors with cold, steady hands felt carefully around the wound, and if she could have heard them, she would have heard the barking voice demanding a new scan of her brain.

Bella wasn't conscious to hear the fight her oldest brother had with the triage nurse, who refused to let him through. She couldn't hear him calling after her when he finally caught sight of her stretcher behind the nurse, being wheeled off to diagnostic imaging.

"She needs care, Emmett," said Carlisle sadly, watching three nurses wheel the gurney away down the hall. "She'll be in the best hands, I promise you. Sit down."

The scandalized triage nurse shook her head and excused herself as Emmett, angry and afraid, threw himself unceremoniously into a pink armchair. Jasper was not quite so agitated. He sat gingerly next to his brother, neither speaking nor looking up. Had Emmett been less frazzled, he might have seen his brother's strange silence for what it was—guilt.

A long thirty minutes passed in dragging silence as the three—two brothers and one doctor—sat silent in the hospital waiting room. As it was so late at night and Emmett was so agitated, the irritated nurse set them up in one of the nearby quiet rooms, which were most often used to give families the very worst news. Emmett bristled when he was led inside, wondering what sort of game this nurse was trying to play, but did not make another scene.

Not two minutes after they had been seated there was a knock on the door and Doctor Gerandy stepped inside.

"Is she okay?" demanded Emmett at once, jumping up from his seat. "What's wrong?" Jasper stood as well, moving to stand next to his brother.

"She's got a bleed," said Doctor Gerandy gently urging Emmett to sit back down. Emmett shrugged him off with a scowl, crossing his arms.

"What's that mean?" he demanded. "Is she going to be okay?"

"We're prepping her for surgery," said the doctor delicately. "The on-call neurosurgeon is coming straight in from Harborview…"

"Surgery?" said Jasper, his voice cracking. "For what?"

"We have to relieve the pressure on her brain," explained the doctor delicately. "If we don't she might not wake up."

Jasper looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead sat himself down on the chair he'd hastily abandoned upon the doctor's entrance. Emmett only took the briefest moment to register his brother's distress before he rounded on the doctor.

"Can we see her?" he demanded. "Before she goes in?"

"I think that would be wise," said Doctor Gerandy quietly, shooting a furtive glance at Carlisle. Carlisle's brow furrowed quickly before he smoothed his face into a mask of calm and understanding, rising gently from his seat.

"The OR is being prepped, so you'll need to be quick," said the Doctor. "Once McMaster gets here, it'll be time to go."

"Did she improve at all with the medication?" asked Carlisle gently, letting the two boys out of the room first. Doctor Gerandy led the way down the hall.

"No," he admitted softly. "She's relatively stable, but she's still a six on the GCS."

Carlisle sighed, nodding quietly.

"A what on what?" asked Emmett confused.

"She's comatose," said Jasper in a low growl, and Emmett wheeled around.

"What?"

"GCS," said Jasper flatly. "The Glasgow Coma Scale. The lower the number, the worse you are. It only goes down to three."

Emmett stared at him, blinking, trying to comprehend.

"She'll wake up, though?" he asked, a note of worry seeping into his voice. "I mean, she has to wake up…"

Jasper did not reply.

"Right through here," said Doctor Gerandy softly, leading them to a curtained area at the end of a long ward. Two nurses hovered around the bed, and there was a cacophony of medical noises that reached them as soon as they entered. The curtain was pulled back and Emmett could not suppress his groan.

There she was, just as she had been at the house, but this time without her bandage and with all kinds of monitors. She a cannula in her nose replacing the oxygen mask, and there were three screens by her bedside monitoring various bodily functions.

"Go and see her," said Carlisle gently, stepping back to let the boys through. "You don't have much time. As soon as the surgeon gets here, they'll have to take her…"

Emmett was the first to step forward, looking apprehensive and angry all at once. He stood awkwardly by the bedside, his hands hovering uncertainly over her, unsure where to touch. Should he take her hand, though it was taped up? Should he rest his hand on her shoulder, where an electrode sat? Her head, perhaps, even though she had that nasty gash?

He settled for the hand, feeling like he could do the least amount of damage there, and was thoroughly unimpressed by the anticlimactic reunion. She didn't even know he was there. Some part of him, deep in the recesses of his brain, registered that this could be the last time he'd ever hold her hand, but he quickly forced that idea back. He did not want to cry in front of her, or worse, in front of _Jasper_. Speaking of Jasper, where had he gotten to?

"Are you coming?" said Emmett gruffly, his brusqueness disguising his fear. Jasper blinked twice at him but did not move, looking shocked.

"What?" demanded Emmett, knowing that if Jasper missed this opportunity and things went bad, he would be haunted for the rest of his days.

"This is all my fault," said Jasper finally, not in a tone of anguish or horror, but one so matter-of-fact that Emmett had to turn around.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, exasperated. "Come and see her before they take her away." _Before she's gone forever_, corrected a little nasty voice in his head.

Jasper just shook his head, standing back.

"It's all my fault," he repeated, and Emmett was both confused and concerned to see his eyes well up. Jasper rarely cried—and never in front of his brother.

"How is this your fault?" demanded Emmett, humouring Jasper for a moment. "You tried to _protect_ her. We all did."

"I opened the door," said Jasper, and this time, his voice broke. "I should never have opened the door!"

Emmett stared intently at his brother, forcing himself to remain calm.

"You were worried about Carlisle," he said lowly, knowing why his brother had unlocked Rosalie's bedroom door the night before. It had been that action that allowed Charlie to grab her, to drag her out to the car, to push her so hard that he had cracked her skull... "It's understandable. You couldn't have known he'd do _this."_

"I knew he was violent," protested Jasper. "That's _why_ I opened it…"

"You are not responsible for his actions," said Emmett, cutting him off. Jasper stared up at him.

"No matter what you _feel_," he said scornfully, "you are not to blame for what he's done. Now come and say goodbye before it's too late."

The words escaped without his consent, and he saw Jasper's eyes flood once more.

"It's _not_ goodbye," he spat, taking two steps forward as he blinked his tears away. Emmett stood to the side, still holding her hand, and let his brother find some other piece of her to hold on to.

"She's not going _anywhere."_

Emmett, feeling wise, kept his mouth shut. That niggling little voice in his head was snarking back, murmuring that it very well _might_ be the end, and wouldn't it be something if this was the last time they ever saw her alive…

Emmett clenched his eyes shut.

"Please don't say goodbye," whispered Jasper in her ear, settling at her head. He leaned over, mindful of the monitors, and kissed her cheek as gently as he could, lingering for a moment before he pulled back.

"Don't you dare go anywhere," he whispered again, and Emmett looked away. It felt wrong to intrude on their private moment, even though he knew that this moment did not belong to any two, but rather all three.

He hoped to high heaven that this would not be the last moment the three of them shared together. He was not sure how he would endure it if it was…

Jasper noticed the strange beeping noise before he did.

"Back up," he said suddenly, forcing Emmett to relinquish Bella's hand. She still did not stir as the second monitor at her side began to flash, first yellow and then red, a grating alarm sounding from the little screen.

"Step back, please!" said a nurse, flinging the curtains aside and brushing the boys away. Both watched, Jasper with sickening fear and Emmett in angry confusion, as Carlisle hung up the cell phone he'd been talking on to slam his hand down on a button at the bedside. The nurses laid the bed flat—it had been inclined somewhat, propping her up—and began opening the front of her gown.

"_Code blue, ICU," _rang out a cool, female voice over the intercom system. _"Code blue, ICU. All available staff please report to room 406."_

The nurse tore off two electrodes impeding her work and began chest compressions.

"_Code blue, ICU. Code Blue, ICU. All available staff please report to room 406."_

"Step back," said Carlisle gently, pressing the two boys against the far wall as the door flew open and three more people came rushing in. As the University Hospital was a teaching hospital, Carlisle knew that any residents, students, and even some volunteers would come running, and he did not want anyone getting in the way. The three men watched as Doctor Gerandy swept through the room, taking charge with the IED machine attached to the wall.

Emmett could not watch them shock her.

"Bring me the intubation kit," Gerandy said, shaking his head. "She's gone down again. If we can't stabilize her airway, we can't take her to the OR."

Carlisle didn't bother to clarify for Jasper, who closed his eyes and sighed. The boy was actually shaking, and Carlisle wished he could be of more help. A steadying hand was the best he could do just then.

Very few medical procedures bothered Carlisle, a 20-year medical veteran. He watched with sad, knowing eyes as Doctor Gerandy tilted her head back and slid the tube carefully and precisely down her throat. The machine, still beeping hectically, slowed and calmed as a full breath of air was forced into her, no doubt doing damage to her broken, tender rib.

Still, she did not wake.

"McMaster has just arrived," said Gerandy, speaking to the head nurse. "Go and help him scrub in. She can't keep on like this for much longer."

"Yes Doctor," said the nurse, and she was out of the room at once. She left an eerie silence in her wake.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," said Gerandy gently, glancing over at Emmett and Jasper. "We don't normally keep family in the room when things like this happen."

Jasper said nothing, refusing to look up from the floor, but Emmett reared up.

"What _was_ that?" he demanded, taking a jerky step forward. He did not dare cross the invisible line keeping him separate from his sister now, however, as an unspoken fear seemed to have crept over him.

"She stopped breathing, and it sent her into cardiac arrest," said the Doctor gently. "We've got her breathing again, and her heart's restarted."

"Her heart stopped?" said Emmett, and Carlisle was alarmed to hear the pronounced panic in his voice. "Is she…"

"She is in urgent need of a neurosurgeon, as I said before," said Doctor Gerandy patiently. "There is a bleed under her skull putting pressure on her brain. That's why she's comatose. The worse the bleed gets, the more pressure it exerts. This time, it looks like it's affected her respiratory center."

Emmett stared at the doctor, lost for words. Carlisle reached out a supporting hand to him as well, keeping one on each of the brothers.

"Will she…" said Emmett again, swallowing reflexively. This was way more than anyone had bargained for.

"We don't know," said Gerandy. "I have hope that everything is reversible, but there's no way to know for sure. Only time will tell."

Emmett didn't say anything back, but slipped back wordlessly against the wall as a flurry of nurses came back into the room, each of them taking up a station at Bella's bedside. One controlled the breaks on the wheels, the other steered the gurney, two more pushed the IV pole and the wheeled monitors. Someone else kept a close watch on the screens, no doubt prepared to intervene should things go downhill again.

As the group shuffled by, no one spoke. Only Jasper put a hand out, his fingertips brushing Bella's long, dark hair for the briefest moment as she passed.

In the moments after she had been wheeled away, he kept his hand out, as if he could still feel her there.

* * *

Emmett only looked up from the carpeted floor of the quiet room when he saw a pair of strappy red sandals—entirely inappropriate for a hospital visit.

"Are you okay?" asked Rose gently, kneeling down in front of him. She had never seen him this quiet, this _still_, and at the same time, so terribly, awfully frightened.

"No," he said gruffly, and she took a deep breath.

"How much longer?" she asked slipping into the seat beside him. Esme had gone straight to Jasper, enveloping him in a fervent hug. Alice and Edward were parking the car.

"Dunno," said Emmett sourly. "They came by about twenty minutes ago and said they had no news."

"No news is good news," repeated Carlisle for what felt like the hundredth time. Emmett had been on the verge of snapping again when first a nurse, and then a doctor had come by, each time to say only that things were progressing, and that they should have some news soon.

"She'll be okay," said Rose gently, urging Emmett's head down on her shoulder. "You'll see. She's a lot stronger than she looks." She kissed his curls.

"Yeah." Emmett's voice was gruff, even for him.

"How's Jazz doing?" asked Rose in a whisper, glancing only briefly at Jasper, who was resting against Esme.

"Dunno," said Emmett again, shrugging. "Nervous."

Anyone with eyes could see that Jasper had left _nervous_ behind some hours ago, and had been stranded in the land of panic for some time now.

"It'll all be over soon," soothed Rose, speaking loud enough for Jasper to hear her too. He did not react.

"Yeah, but done how?" asked Emmett darkly, his eyes brimming again. He angrily wiped the tears away, but not quickly enough to fool Rosalie.

This time, she had no answer for him.

"I'm so sorry," she said, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso. "I'm so, so sorry."

At that moment, a frantic Alice and an anxious Edward came through the door, one in a whirlwind of colour and tears, the other lurking awkwardly against the wall.

Rosalie knew he felt like he did not belong here, in this moment of family grief.

"Oh Jazz," said Alice softly, taking in the sorry sight on the hard chair. To everyone's astonishment, Jasper responded not with gentle words of reassurance, but by snatching her up in a massive bear hug and burying his face in her collar. Not two seconds after Alice had run her fingers through his hair did he burst into tears, unable to hold himself together. Astonished Alice stood, stoic and strong for the first time in her life as Jasper, usually a pillar of emotional stability, fell completely and totally to pieces.

Emmett could not look away.

"Shh," said Alice soothingly, trying her best to be of some help. "Jasper, it's okay…"

Emmett, unable to stomach this strange display of grief from his calm, collected brother, reached over and patted his shoulder, but said nothing. He did not need to. Jasper gripped his hand and in that moment, the both of them were little boys again- frightened and lonely, and desperate for some sense of balance.

And so they sat for another hour, each waiting with bated breath for any scrap of news. Jasper calmed himself slowly but surely, and let Alice take the seat next to him, though he did not break his contact with her. From the second he had let her go, his hand had been in hers, sometimes clenching so tightly he feared he was hurting her, sometimes drawing absently with his fingers on her palm. Esme sat stoically in her chair, her hand on Carlisle's knee, staring at the door as if willing the Doctor to come forward. Edward sought out a seat in the back corner where he took up residence, fidgeting with his hands in his pockets.

"How much longer is this going to take?" asked Emmett finally, breaking the long silence of the room. Alice started at the sound of his voice, and Jasper glanced over at Carlisle.

"It's hard to say," he said gently, taking care to phrase himself carefully. "These things sometimes take longer than expected…"

"It's been six hours," said Emmett angrily, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. No one had gotten much sleep the night before. "How long does it take to fix one bleed?"

"They need to make sure she's stable before they close her up," explained Carlisle quietly. "The surgery could've been done a while ago, but if she can't be stabilized, they'll keep looking for something else to fix. It might not be another complication."

"She only hit her head once," said Emmett desperately. Rosalie knew that Emmett struggled with the medical jargon that was of such interest to Jasper and Carlisle, but in this case, he was desperate to understand.

"One hit doesn't equal one bleed. The brain is a delicate organ," said Carlisle. "We know so little about it…"

He was cut off by a knock at the door.

"Yes?" said Emmett, his voice echoing. "Come in."

Doctor Gerandy came in, looking haggard.

"It's all done," he said gently. "Thank you for waiting so patiently."

"Is she okay?" demanded Emmett urgently. "Is she waking up?"

"Not quite yet," said the Doctor sadly. "Let me explain."

And explain he did.

There had been two bleeds—both close together, but the second was unreachable through the original incision site. No sooner had Doctor McMaster repaired the first bleed did the second make itself urgently known, and they had been forced to call for blood from the donor bank in the basement. The second part of the surgery had required another incision, which had led to a heightened risk of swelling…

It was all confusing to Rosalie, who stared only at Emmett, gauging his reaction. Emmett looked hard-faced and angry all over again.

"I hope they let him rot," he spat suddenly, as Doctor Gerandy finished up his explanation.

"I'm sorry?" he said, looking to Carlisle for an explanation.

"Charlie," growled Emmett, refusing to call the man "dad" any longer. "I hope they let him _rot."_

Jasper grunted his assent.

"Yes, well," said Doctor Gerandy, a little awkward. "In an hour or two someone will be by to take you up to see her again. Only three at a time, mind you. They don't like big crowds in the ICU. The next 24 hours will be critical. We will monitor her closely for signs of…"

Rose heard nothing more, breathing a sigh of relief now that this wretched ordeal was over. Bella had come through. Sick and terribly injured, to be sure, but _alive._ And that was something.

As the sun began to make its way above the tall Seattle skyline, a little nurse in pink scrubs came by the room to take three visitors to the fourth floor ICU. Emmett and Jasper leapt up, escorted by Esme who was eager to lay eyes on the girl she had grown to care for. The three of them left without so much as a glance back, and Rose couldn't help but smile. She, too, wanted to visit, but she could wait her turn.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" asked Alice worriedly, turning to face Carlisle once Jasper was out of earshot. "I mean, that doctor didn't sound too sure…"

"I hope so," said Carlisle softly, looking up with tired eyes. "It'll be a long road for her, to be sure…"

"She _will_ be fine," said Rosalie suddenly speaking up. "She's come this far, there's no way she's giving up now."

"It might not be her choice, Rose," said Carlisle gently. "With injuries such as these, there are some major risks of complication…"

"No," said Rosalie firmly. "She _will_ live, and she _will _thrive."

Carlisle just watched her, smiling sadly, and did not reply.


	11. Chapter 11

I could not move a muscle.

"…should come out of it soon…" The voice, a man's, was muffled and quiet and it sent my mind reeling, trying to figure out what was wrong. Where was I? What had happened?

My head was killing me and my arms were cold. Someone's hand was entwined with mine, but I could not force a squeeze in response . A thumb drew absent circles on my back of my hand.

The responding rumble of words from right beside me was too low to make out and I felt exhaustion tugging me back into the darkness. The last thing I felt before I slipped back into the void was someone tugging a rough blanket over me, smoothing it gently over my arms.

I was still cold.

* * *

"Her eyes are moving, look," said a voice—it sounded suspiciously like Emmett. "Go and get a nurse." He sounded nervous.

All of my effort was put into moving those eyelids, trying to force them open. They felt absurdly heavy, as if someone had weighted them down with bricks. My ears popped suddenly and I heard clicking footsteps walking away.

"Can you hear me?" asked Emmett, his warm breath washing over my cheek. My eyes would not open.

"Bella?" he asked again, squeezing the hand he was holding. "Try and move something if you can hear me."

My eyes fluttered, and he let out a shaky sigh.

"Thank God," I heard him mutter, just as I managed to crack my eyes open. The light was caustic, and I let them fall shut again with a wince.

"Sorry, sorry," said Emmett hastily and the light disappeared. When I tried again, peeking through my lashes, there was only the light of the street lamps outside, casting Emmett's silhouette in dark relief. My vision was blurry and I could not blink it away, but I was reasonably sure that my eyes were not playing tricks—Emmett was definitely here.

"You're in the hospital," said Emmett gently, leaning over the bed to tug a blanket up over my shoulders. "You've been out for a while. Rose is gone for the nurse, but we'll figure everything out."

I tried to speak but was prevented by a hard tube in my throat.

"No, no," said Emmett gently, rubbing a tear off of my cheek as I tried to stir. "You're intubated, so you can't talk just now. You're alright, Bella, I promise."

I stared up at the ceiling, trying to remember what had happened. Hazy images returned to me, but my mind could not formulate a concrete thought. There had been shouting, and a car…? The images faded just as quickly as they had appeared.

"Well now," said a new voice, moving closer to my bedside. The curtain opened. "It's good to see you awake, Miss Swan." The nurse was an older woman, grey-haired and lightly lined, and she smelled like soap when she leaned over to shine a light in my eyes.

"Looking good," she said, smiling. "I'll call Doctor Gerandy to come and take a look at you. Maybe he'll be able to take that tube out of your throat."

"That would be good," said Emmett, nodding fervently. He smiled tightly at me when I looked to him, confused. I tried not to wince at the burgeoning headache I felt coming on.

"Once the doctor looks at you," she said, regaining my attention, "we'll see about adjusting your medication. I'm sure your head is splitting right about now." She checked the monitor, scribbling something on the chart on the end of the bed, and walked out quickly with a gentle smile. Emmett pounced as soon as she had gone.

"Are you in pain?" he demanded in a low, concerned voice. "What can I do?"

Unable to speak, I stared unblinkingly up at him.

"Can you hear me?" he asked again, brow furrowing. "Bella?" The more nervous he got, the louder his voice became.

I blinked.

"Once for yes, twice for no?" he said hesitantly, staring disconcertingly at my face.

I gave him one long, deliberate blink.

"Good. Are you in pain?"

Blink. His small grin faded fast.

"Do you know where you are?"

Blink.

"Do you remember what happened.

Blink. Blink.

He sighed.

"Emmett, leave her for now." a woman said gently, coming to the bedside. My eyes snapped over to see the newcomer. I recognized her from our awkward video chat some months ago. "She's exhausted. Let the doctor take a look and then she might be able to speak once they take that thing out."

"She's in pain," said Emmett anxiously, glancing around for the doctor. "She's…"

"Alive," finished Rosalie sternly, arching her perfectly sculpted brow. "And coherent."

Emmett stared at her, unhappy.

"Does Jasper know she's awake?" asked Emmett, speaking only after the silence became awkward. A little thrill went through me at the sound of my other brother's name. It had been a long time since I'd seen him…

"I don't know," said Rosalie gently. "He's sleeping in the little room down the hall."

"Someone should wake him," said Emmett softly, and Rosalie took her cue.

"I'll be back with him, Bella," she promised gently, offering me a small smile. "He'll be over the moon, you'll see."

"He's really sorry," said Emmett softly, once Rosalie had left. "He feels awful."

I blinked three times, pushing back tears, and Emmett sighed. He seemed to understand my confusion.

"He feels bad for unlocking the bedroom door," he said gingerly, speaking as if his words might upset me. I stared blankly at him.

"The door? At the house?" he prompted. "Right before…" My eyes burned with tears, confusion and frustration coursing through me. What was he talking about? What was going on? Emmett's face shifted from confusion to anxiety to regret as two fat tears slid down my temples.

"It's okay," he said quickly, his hands hovering over me as more tears fell. "Hey, it's okay."

Before my tears could stop, a doctor entered the room.

"Good to see you again, Bella," he said warmly, forcing Emmett to step back. He took note of my tears and inspected the monitors at the bedside, clucking softly.

"I'll get you some more pain medication," he said. "I'm sure you must be sore."

I blinked once, making him chuckle.

"How about we see about that tube, eh?" he asked, shooting a pointed glance at my brother. Emmett stood stubbornly for a moment before the doctor purposefully asked him to step outside the curtains so he could work.

"That boy hasn't left your side for a minute," said the Doctor gently, closing the curtain. I knew Emmett could still hear us. "He's been very attentive."

I blinked, though I did not know what he was talking about. How long had I been here? What foolish mistake had I made this time to earn me this hard, unfriendly hospital bed? Why did Emmett look so scared?

"Alright," he said, taking some rubber gloves from the box behind my bed. "I'm going to disconnect the ventilator. I'll need you to try taking some deep breaths for me, alright?"

I blinked. The hissing and whirring of the machine beside me was silenced at the push of a few buttons, and the air that was being forced into my lungs stopped abruptly. I let out the breath in a huff, taking an experimental inhale.

"Good," said the doctor, looking pleased. "Your respiratory reflex seems to have returned without much difficulty. The nurse noted on your last check that you were trying to breathe around it."

I grunted, and he shook his head.

"Not yet, I'm afraid," he said, quieting me. "Let me grab the RT and we'll take the tube out. Then we'll see about talking."

I had no idea what the RT was but I waited patiently as he slipped out, keeping the curtain closed.

"Not yet," said the doctor gently. "She's still intubated."

I heard Jasper's voice this time.

"Is she conscious?" he asked, sounding haggard. "Rose said…"

"She is," said the doctor gently. "She's alert and speaking, in her own sort of way…"

"She blinks," said Emmett, sounding amused.

"What?"

I felt my face flush red as Emmett, growing more enthusiastic by the second, relayed the rudimentary method of conversation we'd developed just a few minutes ago. Jasper said nothing.

A few moments later, the doctor came back with a woman who introduced herself as Heidi. She explained to me the procedure for removing the tube, and I wondered briefly whether or not it would hurt.

"It will be uncomfortable," she admitted, resting her hand on my arm, "but it shouldn't hurt. I'll need you to cough as we pull it out, okay?"

When she tugged I couldn't help but cough, though it sent flares of pain through my side.

"I'm sorry," said Heidi gently, grimacing as the doctor placed a careful hand on my side. "It'll be finished in just a minute."

She pulled the last bit of it out and I coughed accordingly, fighting back the urge to gag as the tube passed through. When she was done my eyes were streaming and my chest was heaving, the sensation of breathing feeling strange and foreign. I knew I would be used to it soon, but without the tube my mouth and throat were horribly dry.

"Here's some water," said the doctor gently, letting Heidi take a closer look at the monitors beside me. "Little sips," he warned as I brought the cup eagerly to my lips, prepared to down it all in one gulp. The cup was pitifully small.

"Wonderful," he said, beaming as Heidi gave him a thumbs up. "I'm sorry that it hurt your side—you've got a broken rib."

I tried to ask a question, but only managed a grunt as the dryness made my voice almost nonexistent. Heidi patted my arm with a reassuring smile and took the tube out of my little space, leaving the curtain open behind her.

Emmett rushed in at once, eyes bright.

"Hey," he said quickly, reinstalling himself in the hard wooden chair beside the bed. He took my hand in his again, glancing only briefly through the gap in the curtains.

"Hi." The sound was little more than a croak. "Where's Jasper?"

"I'm here, Bella," said Jasper gently, peering in through the curtain before Emmett could answer. "I'm right here."

He looked much worse than Emmett did, and a stab of sadness pierced through me. Emmett had said he felt guilty, but for what? Surely he hadn't been the one to put me here. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. As I fought hard to break through the brick wall that was blocking my memory, I thought back to the last thing I _could_ remember. I was at home in my bedroom… I was reading… _something…_

Emmett fussed anxiously over me as my face went white, and I took in a deep, gasping breath.

"Where's dad?" I asked in my croaky whisper. "Where…?" Emmett's stormy face cut me off.

"In jail, where he should be," he snipped. "He can't hurt you anymore, Bella." I shuddered and brought my hands up to my face, wishing the floor would open and swallow me up. How much did they know? Both Emmett and Jasper exchanged looks of confusion before Jasper broke away, looking astonished.

"Bella, do you not remember?" he asked taking a hesitant step forward. He had not yet sat down.

"I don't know." My voice was muffled behind my hands. I saw him frown through the gaps in my fingers.

"He came to our house," prompted Jasper, ignoring Emmett's voiced protest.

"Jazz, not now…"

"Our house?" I asked, confused. "What house? Where am I?" I looked around, as if hoping to see some kind of sign. The more I looked around, the more I realized that this hospital was far too ostentatious for poky little Forks…

"Seattle," said Jasper gently, sitting in the other vacant seat. "Sweetheart, what's the last thing you remember?"

Emmett fell silent, looking down at me with a frown.

"You don't mean…" His eyes darted between Jasper and I.

"I don't know," said Jasper, cutting him off. "Bella?"

"I remember reading," I said, closing my eyes to think. "I was in my room, reading, and dad wasn't home…"

"How long ago was that?" demanded Emmett, worried. "That's gotta be at least a week ago…"

"What?" I asked, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"Bella, you hit your head," said Jasper gently, taking both of my hands in his. I forced myself to stare at him. He hesitated for a brief moment before he sighed, asking a shocking question.

"Do you know who we are?"

Emmett looked scandalized.

"Of course I do," I said, shaking my head. It made my headache spike, and Jasper stopped me with a gentle hand.

"Careful, Bella," he warned. "Did you recognize the girl sitting with Emmett when you woke up?"

"Rosalie?" I asked, hedging as Jasper nodded.

"Where do you know her from?"

"The video chat," I said, blushing again. "From a few months ago…"

"Have you ever met her in person?" asked Jasper quietly, and Emmett sat back, frowning.

"No…" I said, wracking my brain.

"Get the doctor," said Jasper, looking at Emmett. "Go and find some help."

"What's wrong with me?" I asked worriedly, watching as Emmett scarpered quickly from the room. "What's going on?"

"You've been unconscious for two days," said Jasper. "You hit your head. You haven't been in Forks for almost a week."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, my eyes welling up.

"Bella, Emmett and I came home," he said, looking horribly sad. "We came and saw…"

"Oh god," I said, unable to keep my tears at bay. "What did you see?"

Jasper stared at me with his familiar, wide eyes.

"I think you know what we saw," he said gently. "He _hit_ you, Bella, and he…"

He let his sentence trail, and I felt sick.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, unable to keep my emotions in check. "I'm sorry… I never wanted you to know…"

"Oh sweetheart," said Jasper, suddenly emotional. "You're safe now," he said, hugging me with the gentlest of arms. "I promise you, you're safe. You don't have to go back to him, ever."

Jasper explained the whole sorry history of the past week, and a heavy rock of embarrassment settled uncomfortably in my stomach. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have let my carefully constructed front slip so easily? How could…

"You told us about mom, too," said Jasper gently, and my head snapped up. I ignored the flare of pressure and pain at the rapid movement.

"You mean…" I said, my chin trembling.

"He's being charged," said Jasper quietly. "He won't get away with it, I promise you."

Emmett returned just then, as my sobs began in earnest, the doctor by his side.

"We'll run some more tests," said the doctor gently, watching me with sympathetic eyes, "but I don't think there's anything else going on just now. Some memory loss is to be expected with injuries like hers."

Why on Earth had I told them such atrocities? What spark of madness had taken over to make me reveal such horrible truths to anyone, much less my brothers?

"Try to relax," advised the doctor gently. "This level of upset will only hurt your head. The pressure, you know…"

I couldn't help myself, and Jasper was the one who leaned over and tried to soothe me.

"You're safe," he repeated softly. "I'm so sorry, Bella. You're safe."

* * *

Two days after I had awoken in my hospital bed, Doctor Gerandy sat at my bedside and explained the extent of my injuries to me. He showed me the scans, pointed out the bleeding that had almost taken my life, and explained the measures they had taken to ensure my survival. On the other side of my bed sat Carlisle, who looked sad and serious as the other doctor explained what had been done to me.

Emmett had told me yesterday that Carlisle and his wife, Esme, had temporary custody of me, after they had housed me in the days after my father's assault. No matter how hard I tried, I could not remember.

"Do you have any questions for me?" asked Doctor Gerandy softly. "Barring any complications, you should be discharged in a week, maybe ten days.

"No," I said, lifting my hand to touch the thick bandage covering my head. Although I knew it was necessary to save my life, a small part of me mourned the loss of my hair.

"_Hair will grow back," _Carlisle had said. _"You, on the other hand, cannot be so easily replaced."_

He was right, I knew, but I could not find it in me to feel quite as grateful about it as he did. Carlisle seemed very kind to me, even though I could not quite place him in my memory, and I wondered how awkward it would be going home with him once I was released.

That day could not come quickly enough.

* * *

"Good," said the therapist, switching out the flash cards. "And this one?"

"Two stars and a crescent moon," I said easily.

"Wonderful."

Every day for the past three days, this strange woman who had introduced herself as Kate had come into my room and had me complete a series of little tests. She showed me flash cards and asked me to identify the shapes I saw. She had me draw images as best I could from my memory, and had me write complete sentences. She had me play a complicated version of connect-the-dots and had me trace images on sheets of paper.

All of this, according to her, was to make sure that I had suffered no lasting damage from my injuries. The only thing that seemed wrong was an absence of any memories for about a week before the incident, which Doctor Gerandy thought might still return.

"_It all depends on whether or not it's a physical or emotional trauma that's keeping them suppressed,"_ he had said. _"If it's physical, there might not be any more memory recovery. If it's an emotional block, however, with therapy and the proper treatment, you might get those days back."_

Esme had looked pleased, but I was not so sure. I wasn't sure I _wanted_ them back. Each time I asked, Jasper gave me a rundown of what had happened since his and Emmett's arrival in Forks, sparing me no detail. Emmett looked surly whenever he did this, and I got the impression that he felt that the entirety of the story was not strictly necessary.

"_It upsets her,"_ he had hissed, speaking as quietly as he could as I feigned sleep. _"Why does it matter?"_

"_She has a right to know," said Jasper, sounding pained. "I know it upsets her, but she wants to know."_

"_She doesn't need the details about how her father raped her!" Emmett snapped, and my eyes flashed open._

"_Oh, shit, Bella…" Emmett's words fell on deaf ears as I felt myself fall apart again, wondering when on earth I would regain some modicum of self-control._

Emmett and Jasper had stopped bickering about me in my presence, and I knew that Emmett was suspicious each time I closed my eyes. I doubted I would ever be able to feign sleep around him again, as he had felt unduly responsible for the panic attack that had hit me a few moments after that particular incident.

"You're progressing very well," said Kate happily, smiling her wide, toothy grin as I finished writing my name. "I don't think I have any more work to do here."

"Can I go home then?" I tried eagerly, knowing that her test results were some that Doctor Gerandy was insisting on getting back before he even considered letting me out.

"_We moved too hastily the first time around,"_ he had said. _"Neither Carlisle or I am prepared to make that same mistake again."_

"We'll see," laughed Kate. "I'll pass on the good news to Doctor Gerandy, and we'll see what he says."

I just smiled back at her, wishing her a quiet goodbye as she slipped out of the room.

That night, despite my steady recovery, I felt worse than I had since the day I woke up. That afternoon, Doctor Gerandy had informed me that my IV pain medication would be disconnected, and instead I would be placed on oral medication—a much lower dose.

"These symptoms will ebb by tomorrow," said Carlisle gently, having been given permission to sit with me overnight. "They're relatively mild, considering." I was developing a tolerance to my medication, the doctors had told me, and it couldn't be allowed to continue.

My whole body hurt, throbbing with each beat of my heart. I could hear my pulse in my ears, and the pain was most acute in my head. I was hot and cold all at once, both wishing for more blankets and fighting the urge to kick off the one I already had. My hands trembled and I forced them under me to keep them still, though it only served to make them worse. Carlisle kept a cloth by the bedside, and he mopped my clammy brow whenever my symptoms spiked.

"You'll feel much better after you sleep," he said softly. "I promise you, Bella. Close your eyes and try to sleep."

The next morning, Carlisle was proven right. My body still ached and I was still shaking, but gone were the clamminess and the maddening fluctuation between hot and cold. A nurse came every eight hours on the dot with a little cup of water and two little blue pills.

The pills helped keep my head pain at bay, though I did not cry anymore over the lack of IV. My head still ached and throbbed, smarting around the incision site whenever the nurses came to change the dressings, but I did not cry out anymore when they peeled the gauze away. Doctor Gerandy, on his morning rounds two days later, was pleased to find me sitting up, chewing a bagel that Emmett had brought from the cafeteria downstairs.

"No nausea?" he asked, eying the thick layer of cream cheese.

"No," I said honestly, taking another big bite. "Nothing."

"Excellent," he said. "I'm very pleased, Bella."

"So am I," laughed Emmett, shuffling the deck of cards he had brought with him. We had played countless games of Go Fish and Crazy Eights and I sometimes wanted to scream just to break the monotony, but I never allowed myself to get annoyed or short with Emmett. He was only trying to help, and if I was honest with myself, I was glad he was trying to distract me.

"Well," said Doctor Gerandy, resting his hands on the end of the bed. "You'll be pleased to hear that I've put in for your discharge. You should hear back by tomorrow afternoon, and you'll be free the day after next."

Emmett smiled widely and thumped me gently on the shoulder, looking pleased.

"That's excellent," he said, looking eagerly at me, then the doctor.

"Yeah," I said, laughing softly. "No offence, but I can't wait to be out of here."

"I don't blame you," said the doctor, looking down fondly. "I'm very glad with the progress you've made, Bella. I know Carlisle will keep it up."

"I'm sure," I said, nodding. Esme had already dropped hints about finding me a counselor to work through some of the events that had taken place, and as much as I didn't really like the idea, I knew it was necessary.

It was, however, very strange to think of not returning to Charlie's house.

* * *

My head rested against Emmett's shoulder as we bumped down a long, winding road that led to the Cullen home. The car we were in was vaguely familiar to me—I knew I had ridden in it before, but I could not place it. The seats smelled like pine.

"Almost there," said Emmett, squeezing my shoulder. "Just a few more minutes, and we'll be there."

I tucked my self in under his arm with a sigh, closing my eyes. I was so glad to be out of that hospital, but even that gladness could not suppress the niggling anxiety at the thought of this strange house. Esme and Carlisle had been unfailingly kind. They had showed me the custody papers—temporary as they were—and the kind social worker that had processed my file had been in to meet me.

I had agreed, they told me. The Cullens would take good care of me. My brother's lived there. Everyone was eager for my return home…

Emmett's gentle squeeze broke me out of my reverie.

"Esme's been making you dinner," said Carlisle suddenly, speaking from the driver's seat. He watched me through the rearview mirror.

"Oh," I said, my face heating up. "Well, thanks…"

He laughed, and I cracked a small grin. He really was a very kind man.

"When you were with us before, she made a soup you were particularly fond of," he continued. "So don't be surprised if she asks you to sample it when you get in."

I smiled.

"The rain should let up soon, too…" Carlisle continued with mundane small talk until we reached his house, and although the topics were vague and uninteresting, I appreciated what he was doing. His trained doctor's eye alerted him to my anxiety—_tells_, he called them—and he was doing his best to keep me calm. I didn't feel like panicking, but I didn't feel quite as well as I would have liked to. His chatter seemed to help.

The big white house nestled in the trees stood stately and tall under the grey April sky. The car pulled to a stop on the cobbled driveway, and a gap in the curtains on the front window fluttered closed. Emmett and Carlisle, stretching and groaning, rose from their seats and all of us turned towards the front when the door opened.

Jasper, looking more relaxed and well-rested than he had not so long ago, came striding easily down the path as Emmett opened my door. The outside air was cool and damp, and I took a deep breath as I stepped outside. The sun fought against the clouds.

"Bella," said Jasper, smiling widely as he took me in his arms. "I'm so glad you're home."

_Home,_ I thought gently, craning my neck to take in the beauty of this grand house. _This is home._

There would be much hardship and struggle to come in the future, I knew. As Jasper helped me towards the front stairs, I thought about the police interviews, the court case, the long and hard journey I would begin with a counselor next week. I knew there would be tears and anger, fear and exhaustion.

_But I am home,_ I thought gently. _This is__ home._

The red door swung open at the top of the stairs and I took a careful step inside. Jasper moved back to help Emmett with the bags, and my attention was drawn to a strange boy standing unassumingly in the entrance to the sitting room. His green eyes captured mine in a moment of startling clarity, and I gazed intently on his handsome, open face. His hair was a burnished golden-red, glinting in the weak sunshine that was sneaking in through the window. His face was white, his mouth a little crooked, his body tall and lithe. He smiled softly at me, and when he spoke, his gentle voice matched his face.

"Welcome home."


End file.
